Star Wars Rebels: A Galaxy Not So Far, Far Away
by Specter7
Summary: What if Ezra, Sabine, Kanan, Hera, and Zeb lived on Earth? What if they didn't live in a galaxy far, far away? What would they look like? Where would they be? What jobs would they have? This is the story of how five incredible characters meet in our world.
1. Chapter 1: Sabine Wren

**Hi, everyone. Specter7 here. This is my first story I've published on this site, but not the first book I've written. I hope you all enjoy it and...**

 **May the Force be with you.**

Sabine Wren rubbed the sweat out of her eyes with the back of her hand. The day had been surprisingly hot and the running engine in front of her wasn't helping things.

"Hey, Wren!" her boss yelled, twirling his hand in a _hurry up_ motion. "Get things movin' will ya?"

Sabine bit her lip to keep from snapping something back and screwed one last bolt back into the car's engine. She straightened her cramped back, wincing, and shut the car's hood.

"The car's done," Sabine said tersely, rubbing her oil-streaked hands on a towel.

"Fine," her boss said. "You're done for the day, but I want you pulling doubles tomorrow. Clear, kid?"

Sabine stifled a sigh. "Got it," she said. Her boss turned without another word and Sabine walked to the mechanic shop's sink. She began washing the oil and grease off her hands and arms and looked into the mirror. Her olive-skinned face was smudged with car grease and her brown eyes had heavy bags under them. Those double shifts she had been pulling lately were killing her. Sabine's young, sixteen-year-old body was almost always sleep deprived. But... she needed the money.

Sabine absently fingered with the streak of color in her otherwise dark brown hair. It started blood-red at the top and ended in flame-colored orange. It was too bad she couldn't dye _all_ but the boss had prohibited it. He wanted customers that came into the mechanic shop to have a good first impression. Not a teen punk with a head full of color.

Sabine shook the thoughts away. She didn't like her boss much but the job wasn't bad. And if being a mechanic for an old, run-down, car-fixing shop put food in her belly, then so be it.

The teen grabbed her stuff, slung a bag across her back, and started the long walk home. The hot, blazing sun beat down on Sabine as she traveled along the side of the road. Even though she had lived in Lothal County in Capital City for a few months now, she still wasn't use to the Southern heat. Sabine had originally came from New York City, but that was before...

Sabine shook her head. The past was the past. She had a new life here in Lothal County. She would never have to go back to The Academy. She would never have to face her parents again. Sabine was a mechanic now, not a child prodigy. Yet no matter how much she tried to convince herself that she liked her now-simple life, Sabine felt like she was missing something. Her art-her paintings and drawings-told stories that Sabine never knew, people she'd never met, things she'd never seen, and places she'd never went. Sabine felt like she was meant to be more than a hobo living in the woods, barely making enough money to survive. Surely she was meant to be more!

 _But I'm not,_ Sabine thought. _Not right now, anyway. I'm alone._

 _And alone is who I am._

 **Short chapter, but the next one will be up in a day or two tops. Please give me your opinions on how this chapter was and what I could do better:) Specter7 out.**


	2. Chapter 2: Hera Syndulla Jarrus

**Hey everyone. Specter7 here. Once again, this chapter's short, and the next few will be. But don't worry; it'll pick up speed, just you wait:) I hope you like it, and...**

 **May the Force be with you.**

"This is Captain Syndulla speaking. A-318 Squadron pilots, check in."

 _"Smith, checking in."_

 _"Gonzales, checking in."_

 _"Nelson, checking in."_

 _"Tullier, checking in."_

"Alright," Hera Syndulla said with a smile. "This'll be our last run for awhile. Make it count."

 _"Copy that, Captain,"_ Nelson said over Hera's intercom.

"Diamond Strike formation!" Hera ordered and five U.S. Air Force jets lined up into an attack pattern as they flew across the clear blue sky.

Hera was relaxed as her squadron ran through the well-practiced formations. She had been flying for the U.S. Air Force for seven years now, and she was only twenty-five. Her and her pilots were doing one last run before Hera was transferred to some backwater town in Lothal County down South. It would be awhile before she could fly with A-318 Squadron again, so, they were making the most of their last run.

After another hour or so, Hera finally sighed, running a hand through her long blonde hair. "Okay, Squadron," she said. "Practice is over. Let's get these birds on the ground."

* * *

Hera had changed out of her orange flight jumpsuit into the usual camouflage uniform. She had just said goodbye to her pilots and was picking up the last of her transfer papers.

"Name?" the man behind the desk asked without looking up.

"Captain Hera Syndulla Jarrus," she answered. "I'm here for my transfer papers." Hera couldn't help letting a note of regret creep into her voice. She was transferring. AGAIN.

 _Will I ever stay in one place?_ Hera asked herself.

The man in front of her leafed through some papers and finally gave her a manilla folder with her name stamped on it in red ink. Hera opened it and the man put his finger on one of the pages.

"This is your operating number," he said gruffly. "Only military personnel can issue it, so don't give it to anyone else but your commanding officer when you get to..." the man looked at her expectantly.

"Lothal County," Hera answered.

"Lothal County," he repeated. "Clear, Captain?"

"Yes, sir," Hera nodded.

The man hesitated, then sighed. "You got a family, kid?" he asked suddenly.

The question caught her off guard and Hera finally answered, "I got married about three years ago."

He nodded absently. "Well... Good luck to you two."

Hera gave a small smile. "Thanks," she said and tipped her military cap to him.

Hera turned and started to walk away when the man said, as if an afterthought, "Hey... what's your husband's name?"

She turned around slowly. "It's Kanan," she said eventually.

"Kanan Jarrus."

 **Hope you liked it. The next chapter is coming right up. Specter7 out.**


	3. Chapter 3: Kanan Jarrus

**Once again, Specter7 here. This chapter is short and sweet. Hope you like it, and...**

 **May the Force be with you.**

Kanan Jarrus knew he was in trouble when Vizago pulled out a gun.

"Whoa, there buddy," Kanan said, holding up his hands. "We're all friends here."

"Vizago has no friends!" the tall, black man spat in a heavy accent. "You cheat Vizago and now you pay!"

" _Cheat?_ " Kanan exclaimed. "I would never cheat you. Can't you tell by the dark, sketchy-looking alley that I'm an honest and genuine man?"

"No jokes," Vizago growled. "You gave me bogus weapons and I pay you! They broke in one week and now I have angry clients."

Kanan faced a confused look. "'Bogus weapons?'"

"Bullets no fire from gun," Vizago explained angrily. "Now, you pay Vizago 10% more of what Vizago payed you."

Kanan sighed and shook his head. "I don't have the kind of money."

Vizago snarled and pressed the gun's point to Kanan's chest. "You pay!" he roared. "You pay or die!"

Suddenly, the phone in Kanan's pocket rang. Vizago's eyes darted to it and the brief distraction was all Kanan needed.

He immediately twisted and grabbed the gun, forcing it upwards and breaking it free of Vizago's grasp. Kanan dodged a punch from the dark-skinned man and kneed him in the stomach. After a kick, jab, and roundhouse, Vizago lay in the alley. Out cold.

Kanan straightened and ran a hand through his slick brown hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. He answered his still-ringing phone. "Hera?" he said with a smile. "Perfect timing."

 _"Hey, love,"_ Hera's voice said through the phone. _"Are you ready to go?"_

"Ready when you are," Kanan answered while tossing the gun to Vizago's unconscious body.

 _"I'll pick you up,"_ Hera decided. _"Then we'll go. Where are you?"_

"Well," Kanan began, "if you see an old, dark, abandoned, sketchy-looking alley, and you see an unconscious body with a guy walking away from it... Go ahead and stop; that'd be me."

 _"Kanan!"_ Hera's voice scolded. _"You were weapons dealing again? You promised you stopped!"_

"I did," Kanan said soothingly. "But Vizago realized I had sold him rigged weapons from awhile back. It was a close call but I'm okay."

 _"And how close was 'close?'"_

"Uh... gunpoint close?"

 _"Kanan!"_

He winced and turned on the charm. "Hera, I'm okay. Just come pick me up and we'll talk about it."

Kanan heard her sigh. _"Okay, love,"_ she said over the phone.

 _"Lothal County, here we come."_

 **I know, I know. It's really short. But don't you guys worry. I'll have another chapter by tomorrow (hint: It's Zeb's) Hope you liked it. Give me feedback! Specter7 out.**


	4. Chapter 4: Garazeb Orrelios

**Specter7 here. I'm running out of things to say, so, just enjoy the chapter :) and...**

 **May the Force be with you.**

Garazeb Orrelios-or "Zeb" as people called him-walked through the door of the coffee shop.

Even if he hadn't been wearing his camouflaged Army uniform, people probably would have stopped and stared anyway. Zeb was a big man, 7'1, and ripped with muscles. And with his light brown sideburns and goatee, Zeb was sure he looked as mean as nails.

"Captain Orrelios," a man greeted him.

Zeb smiled slightly. "Jim," he said in his usual deep voice. "What'd you need to see me for?"

They sat down in a booth and Jim took a deep breath. "I'm not gonna waste time with formalities", he said straight up. "I'll get right to the point; the other day, I talked to a kid named Hera Syndulla. She's only in her early twenties and already a captain in the U.S. Air Force. I'm the one who gave her her transfer papers."

Zeb narrowed his eyes. "What're you getting at?"

Jim sighed. "There was something special about that kid. She had a spark of... of, I don't know... something different. Anyway, I know you're looking for a place to retire after your fifteen years in the military. I figured you could go where that kid's going, and, you know, keep an eye on her and her husband. You're not exactly the type of person to lay back and relax."

Zeb chuckled. "I guess you're right. Where's she going anyway?"

Jim took out a folded paper and read, "Lothal County. She should have transferred two days ago."

Zeb thought for a moment. "And you're sure this... 'Hera' was something special?" he pressed.

"Never been sure of anything else in my life."

Zeb didn't hesitate. He stood up abruptly, saying, "Well, thanks, Jim. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to start packing."

Jim looked shocked. "You're leaving now?"

"Of course," Zeb said with a sly smile.

"Adventure awaits."

 **I really like how this chapter turned out. Short and simple but overall interesting. This next one though is what I'm excited about. It's Ezra's chapter and then you'll see how everything really ties in. Remember, review! I want your opinions.**

 **Specter7 out.**


	5. Chapter 5: Ezra Bridger

**Specter7 here, once again. I like this chapter and I hope you do to. Have a good read and...**

 **May the Force be with you.**

Ezra Bridger deftly snuck his hand into his victim's pocket and pulled out a wad of money. Ezra hid it behind his back and began to walk away yet it seemed as if his luck had run out.

The victim, a young (apparently alert) man, turned as Ezra walked away. "Hey!" the victim shouted. "Hey, that kid's a thief! Stop him! Someone stop him!"

Ezra took off sprinting and ran straight into...

 _Oh no,_ Ezra thought despairingly.

 _Social Services. They found me again._

There were two people in front of him. One social servicer steadied Ezra.

"Hey," she said, "are you okay?"

Ezra tried to pull away and the social servicer looked closer.

"Hey!" she said, shocked. "You're the kid we're looking for. Ezra Bridger-"

Ezra jerked away from the two people and ran in the opposite direction. _They found me again,_ Ezra thought, a pit of despair caving inside him. _I'll have to go on the run again._

"Hey, Ezra!" a social servicer called after him. "Hey, wait! It's okay..."

Ezra kept on running until the person's voice faded. His chest heaved and each inhale was a gasp as he sprinted. Ezra turned down an alley and finally slowed to a stop. He was still panting as he moved some garbage around, revealing a small hole in the brick wall. It was the perfect hiding place.

Ezra crawled in the dank, dark crevice and pulled the bags of garbage back over the opening. His breath was heavy and his heart was still pounding as he huddled up in the small space. Suddenly, Ezra heard the sound of footsteps. He froze.

A man sighed. "I can't believe we're still on this kid's case," Ezra heard someone say.

And then a woman replied, "Me either. But I feel bad for him. He lost his parents when he was only seven. _Seven._ Can you believe that?"

The man kicked some of the garbage around and Ezra's heart beat furiously. "Yeah," the man said. "I believe it. The world's a messed up place. I hope we find him soon. You think someone would adopt the kid?"

"Not really," Ezra heard the woman admit.

He froze.

"You know how it is," the woman continued. "The older a kid is, the harder it is to find someone who wants to adopt them. The kid's fifteen years old. You see a future of anyone adopting him?"

Ezra couldn't hear them speaking anymore. The words the lady had just spoken ran around in his head.

 _"The kid's fifteen years old. You see a future of anyone adopting him?"_

Ezra put his hands against his ears but the words still rang. He shut his eyes tight and clenched his teeth.

 _It's not true,_ he thought despairingly. _It's not true!_

 _"The kid's fifteen years old. You see a future of anyone adopting him?"_

Ezra hugged himself as a tear welled up in a tightly closed eye. It trickled down his cheek and Ezra tried desperately to control his emotions. He never cried like that. Never. But what the lady had said hit a soft spot in his heart. Ezra wanted to try and think that there was someone out there that would love him and want to adopt him. But when Social Services had picked Ezra up when he was seven and plopped him in an orphanage, he had waited for someone to come for him. He'd waited for _four years_ for someone to adopt him. But when no one came, on Ezra's eleventh birthday he'd ran away. And he'd been on the run ever since.

Ezra paused when he realized something.

 _I don't hear any footsteps,_ he thought. _They're gone._

Ezra hesitantly nudged the garbage bags out of the way and scooted into the open alley. He swished his longish jet-black hair out of his electric blue eyes and looked around.

The Social Service people were definitely gone, which meant it was time for Ezra to leave too.

He rummaged around the alley, looking for something. After moving the mountains of trash bags, Ezra finally found it. He ripped off the tarp and smiled.

It was his dirt bike. Or really some random guy's dirt bike that Ezra had sort of borrowed permanently. And it was his ticket to freedom.

Ezra pulled the dirt bike up and put the key in the ignition. As it rumbled to life, Ezra pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and peeled out of the alley. His raven-colored hair whipped across his face as he sped faster and faster. He dodged people and screams echoed in his ears. The dirt bike hopped the curb and Ezra weaved in between cars with expert skill.

"Freedom," Ezra yelled to the wind, "here I come!"

* * *

The dirt bike broke down after forty minutes.

Stranded in the middle of nowhere, Ezra pulled out a map from his jacket pocket. He traced all the criss-crossed lines until he finally found where he was.

"There," Ezra muttered to himself. "One and a half miles away from... what is that? Lothal County?"

He examined the little lined in area. For a county, Lothal County was incredibly small. It was more like a town rather a county.

Ezra sighed and glanced at his dirt bike. Smoke curled off it in wisps and the smell of burning rubber surrounded the bike.

"I can't just leave it," Ezra muttered to himself. That hunk of junk was his ticket to freedom! Without it, he'd have to travel on foot to go anywhere, and it wasn't exactly easy to steal a dirt bike every time he needed a ride. _Maybe I can get it fixed,_ Ezra thought hesitantly. _There's bound to be a mechanic shop in Lothal County._

He stood, nodding to himself. It wasn't exactly a _brilliant_ plan, but Ezra could use the money he stole from the victim earlier that day to pay for the repairs that would need to be done with his dirt bike. And he would only be staying in Lothal County for a day or two-tops.

Ezra cringed, but pushed his feelings away. _I don't mind going from one place to the_ _next,_ Ezra told himself. _I don't care. Being on the run? It's what I do best. I survive, and if being on the run is what it takes to survive... Then, suck it up, Bridger._

Ezra stood silently, fighting to control his emotions. Yeah, he was alone. But alone was who he was. Alone was all he would ever be.

 _I survive,_ Ezra told himself. _That's what I do. That's what I am._

 _And nothing under all the stars will ever change that._

 **See where everything ties in? In this next chapter I'll connect all the dots. This story is about to really take off. So hold your breath, cross your fingers, here we go!**

 **Specter7 out.**


	6. Chapter 6: Mimicked and Echoed

**Hey people. Specter7 here. This is where things get pretty cool:) Have a good one and...**

 **May the Force be with you.**

Ezra guided his dirt bike along the sidewalk. Every once and awhile the tire would get stuck in a rut and Ezra would jerk the bike back up, aggravated.

 _This is stupid,_ he thought angrily. _I can't keep dragging this thing around everywhere. I better find a mechanic shop soon or-_

Ezra's threat was cut short when he saw a person walking by. "Hey, mister!" Ezra called. "You know if there's a mechanics shop around here?"

The guy glanced him. "Yeah," he grunted. "Jay's Auto Repair is just down this block on the left."

Ezra silently sighed with relief. "Thanks," he said to the stranger and continued walking.

After another twenty minutes of complete aggravation on Ezra's part, He finally reached a bright neon sign that read the magic words; 'JAY'S AUTO REPAIR.' Sure, one of the letters flickered on and off and, yeah, the people working the mechanics shop looked super shady... but anything to fix his ticket to freedom, right?

So Ezra brushed off his wrinkled jeans, straightened his ratty white T-shirt, and zipped up his oversized jacket halfway. He thought it made him look more professional, even though he was burning up in that awful Southern heat.

"Excuse me?" Ezra called. "Who's the boss around here?"

"I am," a deep voice said.

Ezra turned to see a heavyset guy in a black and red uniform. "You're Jay?" Ezra asked.

He frowned. "No," the boss said. "I'm Darrel."

Ezra looked from the man to the neon sign that clearly said 'JAY'S AUTO REPAIR'. He shrugged mentally and turned to the boss. "Anyway," Ezra said, "I need a dirt bike fixed. Can you people do it?"

The man puffed his chest out in pride. "We can do anything, kid."

Ezra brightened. "Great," he said. "So... do I have to bring it somewhere? Or..."

The boss turned and pointed to an area of the mechanics shop all the way at the end. "If you go down there, Panel Eight, my employee will take care of you."

"Thanks," Ezra said and rolled his dirt bike all the way over. Hopefully the employee Darrel was talking about would be able to fix the bike. And hopefully it wouldn't be too expensive.

Ezra made it to Panel Eight and looked around. Suddenly, he saw sparks out of the corner of his eye and walked closer in curiosity. There was a lean female figure under a car in the garage part of Panel Eight. She wielded a blowtorch and had a welding mask over her face as she fused something together under the car.

"Hey," Ezra said. "I'm here to have my dirt bike fixed."

The figure paused what she was doing only to turn the blowtorch right back on again. "Can't you see I'm busy, kid?" the figure said from under the welding mask.

Ezra tilted his head. From the sound of her voice, the girl was probably not much older than he was.

Instantly curious, Ezra continued talking. "Yeah?" he said cockily, "well, I don't want to tell you how to do your job or anything, but doesn't it involve... I don't know, _work?_ "

The figure kept on welding something together under the car.

"Your boss sent me to you," Ezra said finally. "So will you help me or not?"

The girl finally put down her blowtorch with a sigh and scooted out from under the car. As she stood, Ezra's eyes narrowed. There was something familiar about her. The girl had her black and red uniform jacket around her waist and a plain white tank top on that was smudged with car grease. Her olive-skinned arms were tanned darkly and crisscrossed with small, faint scars.

She slowly took off her welding mask and Ezra's eyes flew wide open. The girl. _He knew her._

Something pulled deep inside Ezra's core. A gut-wrenching, heart-stopping, stomach-dropping pull. He stared at the girl, and she stared back at him, her eyes scanning him over and over again, as if she couldn't believe he were standing there.

Ezra looked at her thick, dark brown hair that was cut short and her bangs long. He looked at the single red streak of color that faded into orange. He looked at her tanned, slender face and deep, knowing brown eyes. And only one thought was in his mind.

 _I know her._

 _I. KNOW. HER._

* * *

"So will you help me or not?"

Sabine Wren sighed and put the blowtorch down, silently banging her head on the bottom of her car. She wished whoever was bothering her would go away already; Sabine wasn't exactly having a good day. First, she had been late to work and without a form of transportation, being late was a constant problem. Second, her boss made her work through her lunch break. And third? This random kid had to come and bug her.

Sabine pushed herself out from under the car. As she stood, she glanced at who was in front of her and did a double-take. The welding mask was still firmly on her face so everything was tinted... but that looked like... it looked an awfully lot like..

Sabine slowly took the mask off and her mouth dropped. It was him. It was the boy in her drawings, the boy she painted. Or... it resembled him, at least.

Her eyes darted back and forth, scanning every feature of him. The boy's longish, jet-black hair mimicked the smooth, black strokes of her paintbrush. His broad jaw and slightly lighter than copper skin echoed of the painting she had made just a few days ago.

Sabine stared into the boy's electric blue eyes. "Have we met?" she murmured.

"I don't think so," he said quietly. The boy paused, then added, "I would've remembered someone like you."

Sabine arched an eyebrow and then shook her head. Whoever this kid was, he must not be as unique as she thought. He was like all the other boys, trying to flirt with her.

 _Whatever,_ she thought. _Let's just get this over with._

* * *

Putting aside that 'I know her' feeling, Ezra was still intrigued by her. She was beautiful and Ezra immediately wanted to know more about her.

He opened his mouth to talk but the girl beat her to it. "What do you need fixed?" she asked bluntly.

Ezra wasn't even mildly concerned anymore about his dirt bike. He ignored her question and replied, "My name's Dev," he lied. "Dev Morgan. What's yours?"

The girl stared at him with narrowed eyes before glancing at his bike. She in turn, ignored _his_ question, asking, "This the thing you need fixed?"

Ezra shrugged impatiently. "Yeah, sure, but your name-"

"-Is none of your business," she finished for him. The girl took Ezra's dirt bike from him and looked it over.

Ezra, all the while, was still staring at her. _Good grief,_ he thought, _she is_ sassy _. And sarcastic._

 _I'm in love._

The girl fingered with his dirt bike and put up the kickstand. "What's wrong with it?" she asked.

"I dunno," he said. "It broke down on the road after I'd been riding it for thirty or forty minutes. Can you fix it?"

She turned to him. "I can fix anything," she said confidently.

* * *

Oh, Sabine could fix anything, alright. And after her quick examination of the bike, she figured all it needed was a new battery.. but the kid didn't know that.

The boy intrigued Sabine. Judging by his ratty and tattered clothes, she figured he had ran away. And when he said his name was... what was it? Dev Morgan? She had known he was lying. The way he said it may have fooled other people, but not Sabine. She could probably fix his dirt bike in two hours, tops, but the kid intrigued her. He was dangerously similar to the boy in her drawings and paintings. So, Sabine would _not_ be fixing his bike in two hours. If she said it would take a few days for her to fix it, he might come back. He might stay in Lothal County longer than one day. And Sabine might even be able to figure out his real name.

"Hey," the kid said as he bent down next to his bike. "How long would it take to fix it?"

Sabine cleared her throat. _Am I really doing this?_ she asked herself. "It's probably going to take awhile," Sabine said without thinking twice. "A few days, maybe."

The boy in front of her frowned. "Oh," he said.

"But," she added casually, "I mean, you _are_ welcome tocome back to the shop anytime you want to... If, you know, you don't want to be parted from your bike for too long."

He looked at her with electric blue eyes and seemed to play it cool and casual too. "Sure," he said, shrugging indifferently. "Why not?" the boy paused and added, "Would tomorrow morning be good?"

Sabine hid a smile. _Yes._ "I get to work at eight A.M.," she told him. "So you can drop by to see your bike anywhere between then and five."

The kid stood up. "Okay," he said finally. "I... I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

Sabine gave a small smile. "I guess so."

He started to leave when he seemed to remember something. "And how much money exactly are we talking about here? To fix the bike?"

Sabine wanted to laugh. To replace the battery, it would cost only fifty to eighty dollars. But with what she had in mind...

Sabine pretended to look thoughtful. "Eighty-five dollars upfront would take care of today," she said. "But for the future, it'd be hard to tell how much this would cost. We can play it by ear," she decided.

Sabine saw the kid swallow. "That's a lot of money," he muttered. "Fine," he said louder. "I'll... I'll have the money to pay it tomorrow. But only so long as you can fix it."

Sabine stared straight at him. "I can fix anything," she repeated, her voice hard. "...Dev Morgan."

He continued to look at her. "Good," he said at last, turning to leave.

"Sabine," she said suddenly.

He looked at her over his shoulder.

"My name's Sabine."

The kid gave her a lopsided grin before turning and walking away. Sabine watched him go until he disappeared into an alley. And then she whipped around, pulling the bike inside the Panel Eight garage. Sabine grabbed her stuff, slung a bag across her back, and held her welding mask under her arm as she sprinted out of Jay's Auto Shop.

She could hear her boss yelling at her but Sabine ignored him and kept running. "Ah, go eat a monkey wrench," she muttered. Yeah, she'd left thirty minutes earlier than she was supposed to. But Sabine had to get home. There was something she had to see.

Sabine eventually made it to the woods. She tore into the brush and leaves, still running. She dodged trees in the darkening evening light until she finally made it to her home.

If it could even be called that.

Her home was a simple handmade shack, built out of scraps of wood and covered in graffiti art. Sabine slipped inside the heavy cover that served as a door and turned on the battery-powered lantern. She ran to her makeshift desk and rummaged around. Papers flew everywhere as she shifted through piece after piece of artwork.

"Where is it..." Sabine muttered to herself frantically. "Where is it..."

There.

A colorful, thick page peeked out among the bundles of her work. Sabine slowly picked it up. It was exactly as she thought.

For the hair, there were thick, black brushstrokes with a navy tint. For the skin color, the paint was only a little lighter then copper. And for the eyes... For the eyes, she had used a beautiful, deep, royal blue that made the eyes seemed as if they pulsed with electricity.

Sabine was looking at _him._ Sabine had painted the boy she had met today... mere days before she had ever laid eyes on him.

She stared at the painting. It was the spitting image of the kid.

 _What's happening...?_ Sabine thought, her eyes transfixed on her art.

 _WHAT IS HAPPENING?_

 **Interesting, huh? Anyway, the next chap will be up in probably two days. Remember to Follow/Fav and review! I want your opinions:)**

 **Specter7 out.**


	7. Chapter 7: Humble Grounds

**Hey, once again, never to disappoint, Specter7 here! As I promised, the seventh chapter is here and... voila! It is magnificent:) Read and...**

 **May the Force be with you.**

Garazeb Orrelios walked around the mall, a bit lost.

He wasn't quite used to all this... hustle and bustle. Or so many people. _You would think,_ Zeb reflected, _that for a county so small, there wouldn't be this many people stuffed into one area._

But, unfortunately, there were.

Zeb wandered around for awhile before spotting one familiar thing in the sea of people. It was his anchor in wave after wave of unfamiliar element.

Coffee.

Zeb walked into the shop eagerly, ducking as he went through the door.

"Hello, sir," a bored teenager said from behind the counter. "Welcome to our humble grounds." he paused as if waiting for Zeb to get the joke. When the big man didn't laugh, the teen continued in a monotonous tone, "Our specials today include hot and iced cappuccinos. Each is a dollar off from their original price. Would you like to try one, sir?"

"Ah, no," Zeb said. "I'll have a large supreme latte deluxe with extra whip cream and a double-shot of caffeine."

The teenager behind the register wrote furiously on a cup and tossed it to another worker. "It's coming right up," the worker said in a bored manner. "That'll be fifteen dollars, sir."

Zeb's eyes bugged out of their sockets. _Fifteen dollars_ for a cup of _coffee?!_ "Are there discounts for military?" Zeb asked.

"Nope."

He wanted to growl at the teen. Instead, he dug his wallet out of his pocket, pulled out a twenty dollar bill, and slapped it on the counter.

"Keep the change," he snarled and grumpily waited in line for his coffee.

A few minutes later, Zeb was slouched in a booth, slowly drinking his latte. After a few sips, he pulled out his wallet again but this time, got out a small, folded up piece of paper. On it was Hera Syndulla Jarrus' name and operating number.

Right before Jim had given him her operating number, he had had given him a warning.

 _"Don't lose this,"_ Jim had said. _"If something happens to that operating number, you won't be able to find her. Now, if you want to get in contact with Hera Syndulla, you have to call wherever she's stationed at and give them that number. In turn, they'll give you her phone number and email address. But you_ can't _lose that operating number..."_

Zeb looked down at the little piece of paper. Odd, how something so tiny affected the entire reason he was even in Lothal County. Zeb had just arrived there the day before and was now trying to get familiar with his surroundings.

"Probably should get back to the hotel," he muttered, stroking his fairly long goatee. Maybe then he could call the military base Hera was stationed at and give them the operating number. Zeb did need to get in contact with her and her husband soon.

He sighed, stood up, and stretched. Zeb walked out the coffee shop, latte in hand, and put his wallet back in his front pocket. Suddenly, someone ran in to him.

Plowed into him, more like it.

It was a kid. He was fourteen or fifteen with longish black hair parted down the middle and wore trashy clothes.

"Watch it, kid," Zeb growled, annoyed. Suddenly, Zeb wondered if he had seen the kid somewhere... He looked awfully familiar...

The kid looked up at him with seemingly dazed electric blue eyes. He appeared to pull himself together and managed to say, "Sorry, Mister."

He walked away and Zeb watched him go until he disappeared in the crowd of people. "Kids these days," Zeb muttered, shrugging off the weird déjà vu feeling and continued walking.

* * *

Ezra sat on a bench, silently watching people pass by him. He was in the only mall in Lothal County and waiting for his next victim.

Ezra didn't have enough money to pay the mechanic, Sabine, to fix his dirt bike. So, as a result, he would have to steal the money.

 _Stealing to survive,_ Ezra thought privately. _Will I ever be anything different?_

And suddenly, Ezra found the victim he was looking for. There was a big, hulking, giant of a man lumbering through the mall's doors. As soon as he saw how many people there were, he seemed dazed. The man wandered around and without a second thought, Ezra followed him.

 _Ha,_ Ezra thought, smiling to himself. _The guy's clueless._

It wasn't hard to keep track of the man considering he was a whole head taller than everyone else in the crowd. Ezra tailed the guy as he seemed to walk around aimlessly, when suddenly, the man stopped. Ezra froze, his heart pounding in his chest.

 _Did he see me?_ Ezra thought, fighting down panic.

But no, the man suddenly moved forward with purpose, making a beeline to... Huh. A coffee shop.

Ezra gave a lopsided grin and sat at one of the tables just outside the coffee shop. He watched the big man go up to the register and pull out his wallet and take out a twenty. And where there was one twenty dollar bill, there would probably more...

Ezra watched the man out of the corner of his eye and tried to think of a way he could get the wallet. He would have to wait until the man walked outside the coffee shop and then maybe Ezra could possibly, "accidentally" bump into the man.

He looked closer at the big guy, watching him sip his coffee as he sat in a booth. Judging by the way the man was absently staring into space, he had a lot on his plate. He was probably stressed, which meant he would most likely be unfocused and not alert... which just made Ezra's job easier.

The teen examined the man's broad shoulders, hard face, and huge muscles.

Ezra let out a low whistle.

 _Dude,_ Ezra thought, _that guy is_ ripped!

His confidence suddenly wavered. Maybe he shouldn't steal from that guy. If the big man caught him... there was no _telling_ what he would do to Ezra!

And then, Ezra saw the man pull out his wallet again. But this time, he had a closer look and... wow, that was a lot of money. In the little pocket of the wallet, Ezra saw at least a hundred dollars, all crammed into into it. Ezra forgot his earlier worrying.

 _I have to get that money,_ Ezra thought eagerly. _It'll be enough to pay Sabine and maybe I'll even have a little left over for food!_

He waited impatiently as the big man finally stood up, putting a small piece of paper back into his wallet, and his wallet into his pocket. Ezra jumped up and ran a ways off, all the while watching as the man walked out of the coffee shop. Ezra started forward, pretending to look to his right and plowed straight into his victim.

Instantly, Ezra's hand darted into the man's pocket and pulled it right back out along with an old, black leathered wallet. Ezra hid the wallet against his pant's leg and looked up. And suddenly, Ezra didn't have to pretend to be oblivious and confused anymore.

The man had a hard face and heavy brows above bright green eyes. He had a military style crew cut and had longish sideburns and a goatee. But as soon as Ezra looked at the man, he was dazed. The big guy looked eerily familiar. Ezra didn't know this man... but he felt like he did.

"Watch it, kid," the man growled in a deep voice as he pushed Ezra away. Ezra's numb fingers were barely holding on to the wallet as he clenched his jaw. How do he know that man?

Ezra pulled himself together and managed to reply shakily, "Sorry, Mister." Then hesitantly turned away, as if nothing had happened. Ezra felt the man's eyes on his back as he slipped into the crowd and gradually made it to the front of the mall.

He stepped outside and pressed his back against brick wall. Ezra closed his eyes tight and swallowed. First Sabine, and now this guy.

"I'm losing it," Ezra muttered. He glanced down at his shaking hand that gripped the wallet. Ezra slowly opened it up and leafed though the bills. Yeah, there was about two hundred dollars in that thing. A good find and a successful steal.

Ezra looked at the man's drivers license.

"So," Ezra murmured. "You're Garazeb Orrelios, huh? That's a mouthful."

Ezra suddenly noticed a small, white piece of paper sticking out in one of the folds. He faintly remembered Orrelios pulling it out and looking at it. Ezra slowly opened it up. On it were numbers someone had scrawled out on one side under the name, 'Hera Syndulla Jarrus.'

"Another mouthful," Ezra muttered to himself. "Who names you people?"

He flipped the paper over and it had simple directions on how to use the number. It was an operating number, apparently. The one military people use. Supposedly, if Ezra called some kind of military base or something, they would give him Hera-What's-Her-Face's contact information.

Ezra looked curiously at the name scratched into the piece of paper. He slowly laid his finger over the last word, 'Jarrus' and stared at the name in front of him. He recognized that name. He recognized those two words.

"'Hera Syndulla,'" Ezra said aloud, his eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

* * *

Zeb got back to his apartment and sat on his bed with a sigh. It had been a busy morning and Zeb was worn out from being around so many people.

He stood up again and dug a hand in his pocket, looking for his wallet. Zeb frowned. That was weird. It... it wasn't in there. Zeb checked his other pocket. Nothing.

Frantic, the man checked his other two pockets and then the bed and then around the floor. But it was in vain.

There was no wallet.

Zeb smashed a fist on the dresser. "No!" he growled.

Without the wallet, there was no operating number. And without the operating number, there was no way to get in contact with Hera. He couldn't go back to Jim and ask for her number again; Jim had just been deported to Vietnam.

Hera was the whole reason Zeb had moved himself and all his possessions seven hundred miles! Hera was the reason he had retired to a small, simple place like Lothal County!

Zeb mentally retraced his steps. He had had the wallet when he left the coffee shop and he didn't take it out the whole ride back to the hotel. Zeb thought hard. _Did anyone bump into me? Maybe someone stole-"_

His green eyes darted up. That kid. That ratty looking kid with the trashy clothes! That little punk had ran into him and almost made him spill his latte!

 _He's the one,_ Zeb thought angrily. _He stole my wallet, he_ had _to. I always keep up with my stuff... that kid is the only explanation._

Zeb balled his huge hands into fists. "If I find that kid," he threatened aloud, "I'm gonna end 'em."

Zeb slowly grew somber. He'd track the kid down, for sure... But without the operating number, what would he do?

"Hera Syndulla Jarrus," Zeb said quietly. "Where are you?"

 **Well, that's all for the time being. But don't worry, I'll have the next chapter up soon. Like the story? Follow/Fav and review!**

 **P.S. I basically already know where I'm going with the story but if any of you have ideas you'd like to see in the next chapters, private message me. Who knows? I just might add it in:)**

 **Specter7 out.**


	8. Chapter 8: The Crash

**Hello! Specter7 here. And, just as you people requested, I've got another chapter. And we even have a surprise character showing up! So read to find out who it is and...**

 **May the Force be with you.**

Hera Syndulla Jarrus was lost.

...Maybe lost was too strong a word. More like...being spontaneous. Impulsive. Reckless.

And all on her husband's insistence.

"I told you, Hera," Kanan said as he drove. "We're not lost. We're just exploring Lothal county."

Hera arched an eyebrow at him and sighed. "Just admit you have no idea where you're going," she demanded.

"I know _exactly_ where we're going," Kanan defended.

"Alright," Hera said, playing along. " _Where are we going?_ "

Kanan was silent for a moment before replying, "Anywhere we want to."

Hera put her hand to her forehead. "Why was I expecting that answer?" she muttered to herself.

"Look, Hera," Kanan said, his eyes on the road. "You said you wanted to see Lothal County. So, we're seeing it. And even though we don't know exactly where we're going, we're having fun. Together. Right?"

Hera pushed away her worries. "Right." Besides, it was a small county. Hera couldn't possibly be lost in such tiny area.

The two rode in the car for awhile, talking, passing landmarks, and seeing the sights. Even though Lothal County was rural, hot, and run down... Hera realized she slowly began to love it. She found beauty in it's tall grasses and patches of woodland. She had grown to like the gorgeous sunsets that took place every evening. She was fascinated at the family-oriented schools and playgrounds. Even though it didn't look like much on the outside, Hera realized Lothal County was a jewel in itself.

Hera looked outside the window as something caught her eye. "Hey, Kanan," Hera said quietly. "Pull over, will you?"

The car crawled to a stop on the side of the road and both adults got out. Hera walked up to a big, brown-bricked building. Huge, tattered letters hung above the door reading, 'LOTHAL CHILDREN'S INSTITUTION.'

"It's an orphanage," Hera breathed.

She saw her husband cock his head. "I didn't know Lothal County had an orphanage," Kanan said quietly.

They both looked at each other and then in unison, walked up to the door. Hera rung the doorbell and after several long moments, someone opened it up.

It was an older lady with graying hair. Clear-cut wrinkles surrounded her eyes showing a lifetime of hearty laughter. "Hello, there!" the lady said with a warm smile. "Welcome to Lothal Children's Institution. How may I help you?"

Hera glanced at Kanan. "We're new here," Hera explained, "and we were driving around town when I saw this orphanage. I... We didn't know Lothal even had an orphanage."

The old lady took Hera's hand and patted it gently. "It's a Children's Institution, dear," she corrected. "Children's Institution. Now, please, come in! I'll show ya'll around."

Hera saw Kanan smirk at the word 'ya'll' and she bumped him gently. "Manners," she murmured to him.

"Hey," he whispered back with his troublemaker smile plastered on his face. "I'm _always_ on my best behavior."

Hera started forward, following the lady. "Your best needs some work then, love."

Even without looking back at her husband, she knew Kanan's jaw had dropped. She smiled to herself and then glanced up at the old lady. She had gone through a door and was calling to them.

"This way, dears!" she said.

As Hera walked through the door frame, she stopped. They were in a small playground that was apparently behind the orphanage-sorry, _Children's Institution_ -and Hera was shocked. There were probably fifty kids in all, with the younger kids running around and the older ones hanging in the back of the playground where the benches were.

 _There's so many,_ Hera thought.

"H-How come there's so many children here?" Hera asked shakily. "None of them have parents?"

The old lady sighed. "As of right now, there are forty-eight kids housed here," she said. "Their parents have either abandoned them or died." Hera watched the old lady look at the children with sad eyes. "Most of the foster kids go from institution to institution. We just happen to have a large group right now."

Hera watched the preschool aged kids run around, screaming happily. She watched as the elementary aged kids climbed trees and saw every piece of playground equipment as an obstacle they had to cross. She watched as the middle and high school aged kids hung back in the shade, sitting on benches. They didn't talk much to each other and Hera knew why.

They had already lost hope.

She opened her mouth to speak but Kanan had seemingly read her mind and beat her to it. "What happens to the older kids?" he asked.

The old lady sighed. "As years pass and the older a child gets, the less likely it is for he or she to get adopted. And when they get to be a teenager, their chances of finding a family..." the old lady trailed off and shook her head. "They're not good."

"And when they reach eighteen?" Kanan asked quietly.

The old lady shrugged helplessly. "They're thrown out of the system. Officially an adult, they're left to survive on their own."

Hera stared at the older kids, her heart aching. _What would it be like to live your entire life... without those you love around you?_ A vital part was missing from these orphan's lives; their families. How could they be grown up and all adult-like when they had never had a family to support them?

"Kanan-" Hera breathed.

"I know," he interrupted. "...I know."

There was a long pause before Hera finally said to the old lady, "Well, thank you for opening your orpha- ahem. _Children's Institution,_ up to us. We really appreciate all you do for these young ones."

The old lady smiled sweetly. "Of course, dearie. Of course. I'll walk ya'll back to the front."

* * *

It was silent in the car for awhile as Hera and Kanan drove down a one-way road. Old, abandoned buildings lined both sides.

"I know you're thinking what I'm thinking," Hera said quietly.

"I am," Kanan admitted.

She paused. "Then why not?"

He shook his head. "I can think of reasons," Kanan said. "Reasons I don't even want to admit to myself."

"But you _do_ want to do it."

"Hera," Kanan said with a sigh, "we can't adopt a teenager right now. We're renting an apartment with _one_ bedroom. Where would the kid sleep?"

"So?" Hera said, refusing to give up. "We'll find a bigger house."

"With what money?"

"We can make it work!"

"It's not that," Kanan said quietly, gripping the steering wheel. "We just can't. Not yet."

"Can't?" Hera breathed, a silent challenge. "Or won't?"

Kanan stepped on the brakes and Hera's body pressed uncomfortably against her seatbelt. He turned and looked at her with those piercing aquamarine eyes.

"Do you trust me?" he demanded.

"Arggh, Kanan-"

" _Do you trust me?_ "

Hera looked at him. She said nothing for a moment.

"Of course."

Their conversation was cut short by the sound of squealing brakes. Hera jumped in her seat, just in time to see a huge van barreling towards them.

Only her husband's quick thinking and razor-sharp reflexes saved them. Kanan slammed on the gas pedal, whipping the wheel to the left just as the van slammed into the tail end of their car. Hera was spun around and she gripped her door handle. Her eyes were closed as tight as possible as the car did doughnuts on the little road. Once the car finally spun to a stop, Hera and Kanan glanced at each other with wide eyes before springing out of the car.

The huge van had careened off the one-way road and into an old abandoned building. Fire burnt underneath the van as black smoke rose to the heavens.

"Oh, no," Hera breathed, and clamped a hand over her mouth in horrific fascination.

Kanan ran past her, yelling, "Stay back, Hera! Call 911 while I get the people out!"

Hera did. Once she had made the call, Kanan had two people on each shoulder as he ran away from the van that slowly began to catch fire.

Hera went to help her husband when she noticed something. The side of the van crawled with flames but she could just make out the logo and words...

'CAPITAL CITY DOG POUND'

If the van was a dog pound van, then that must have meant...

A bark.

Hera froze as another mournful bark echoed from the van. Then another and another. Hera could hear the dog's panic as it whined fearfully.

She started forward, an arm covering half her face from the awful heat of the fire.

"Hera!" Kanan called. "No! You never go back for the dog!"

She turned to see her husband kneeling on the concrete, giving CPR to one of the people he'd pulled out. His face was pointed towards her. His panicked aquamarine eyes were wide.

"Do you trust me?" Hera asked quietly, her voice almost inaudible over the roaring fire. She turned, not giving her open-mouthed husband time to respond, and ran for the dog pound van.

Something indescribable was pulling her towards the automobile. Towards the frantic animal that was caged inside it. Hera sprinted to the back of the van and ripped the door open. Fire raced across the door frame and Hera looked inside. There was a rusty-colored, dark orangish dog hunkered in the very front of the van. It whined, scratching at his open-doored cage

Hera glanced at the fire. It had almost overtaken the back of the van!

"Hey!" Hera called to the dog. "Hey, come on! Here boy!"

The crazed animal looked at Hera but made no move to her. And she saw why. Or rather, _felt_ why.

The metal floor was hot as the fire burned underneath the van. Hera gently touched the floor with the back of her hand and yelped. It was _hot._ Blazing hot.

Hera looked at the floor then back at the dog. She was still outside, looking in. It wasn't too late to run away... The fire was getting hotter...

But then she looked at the animal, and the animal at her. Hera knew she had to save it. It wasn't just a dog... She felt a strange connection to the beast. Something that couldn't be severed... even by death.

Hera leaped inside the van, the scorching metal burning through the soles of her shoes. She hurried over to the dog, ripping open his cage door, and grabbed the good sized animal. He was about the size of a Labrador with rusty colored fur and floppy ears. As Hera lifted the dog up, she could feel his rapid heartbeats as he franticly moved around in her arms.

"I got you," she whispered to the dog.

He relaxed and Hera gripped him tight as she bounded through the van. The flames of fire almost covered the entire opening of the back of the van.

Not stopping, Hera yelled, "Hang on!" and plunged through the fiery wall. The searing pain that touched her face and any open skin was immense, but they made it.

Hera's boots hit solid ground and she rolled. Kanan ran over, helped her up and grabbed the dog by his neck fur. Hera was dazed. Her face felt feverish, still hot from the sizzling flames.

"You okay?" Kanan asked breathlessly.

Hera opened her sea green eyes to see her husband with a worried expression on his face. "Yeah," she mumbled. "Yeah, I'm fine."

An ambulance and fire fighters came to the scene. They checked her and the other two people Kanan had pulled out over. Everything was a blur to Hera. Yet all the while, the dog stayed at her side, his tail whipping back and forth like a helicopter blade.

"That's it," Hera whispered as she petted the dog. "That's your name.

"Chopper."

* * *

Kanan watched as his wife named the dog. He sighed. _Guess we're keeping it then,_ he thought. Kanan suddenly paused. He narrowed his eyes and then looked over his shoulder. He was getting a weird feeling... Like... Like someone was following them. Or trying to, anyway.

 _Someone's coming,_ Kanan thought suddenly. _They're looking for us._

He turned all the way around but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. _No,_ he thought. _They're not here yet._

 _But they will be._

 **Oh, no! What is Kanan feeling with his mystic almost Force-like senses? You'll have to wait for the next chapter to find out! And... yay! The mystery character was Chopper! So, Follow/Fav, review and all that jazz:) Happy New Year!**

 **Specter7 out**


	9. Chapter 9: A Snake-Hearted Turncoat

**Hello everyone! Specter7 here. Now, I know I took awhile on this chapter but it's a pretty good one! And it's gearing up toward our next milestone in this story... Ezra meeting Kanan! And even though it's been, like, two weeks since Christmas, I'm still in a happy mood! So merry late Christmas and a happy New Year and all that jazz:)**

 **Okay, in all seriousness now, I wanted to write a little something in honor of the late Carrie Fisher who passed away on Tuesday, December 27th. As most of you know, she played the great Princess Leia Organa in Star Wars. So, before you read this chapter, I'd ask for you to keep the Fisher family in your prayers as you go throughout your day. Princess Leia was an inspiration to us all...**

 **May the Force be with you, Carrie Fisher.**

Sabine was screwing a testy bolt back in under a car, her combination wrench not doing the trick. She pushed most of her body out from under the car, reaching for an adjustable wrench. Sabine still held the bolt in place, not wanting to let it go as she stretched her arm out. _So close,_ she thought as her fingers were just a centimeter away from her tool...

"Need some help?" a voice asked, handing her the wrench.

Sabine jumped, hitting her head on the car's bumper. "Ow," she muttered, a hand on her forehead. Sabine looked up through squinted eyes to see the boy in her painting. The one who said his name was Dev Morgan.

"Sorry about that," the kid apologized, offering her his hand and pulling her up.

"S'okay," Sabine said breathlessly. "I'm... I'm surprised you came. Almost thought you were a no-show."

The kid bent over and did a mock bow. "Dev Morgan never disappoints!"

Sabine turned her back to him and walked to the dirt bike. "Except yesterday," she said, trying not to let bitterness creep into her voice. "You told me you were coming. You never did."

The kid quickly walked over to her. " _You_ were disappointed I didn't come?" he asked, looking at her with a slight lopsided grin.

Sabine glanced at him. "Disappointed my money didn't come in," she lied, "the money _you_ were supposed to give me," she said, trying hard to be angry.

Dev Morgan seemed to stiffen. "I got you're money now," he said finally, opening an old, black-leathered wallet and pulling out her eighty-five dollars.

Sabine took it from him gently, getting no joy as her fingers touched the cold, hard cash. "...Thanks," she said awkwardly.

The kid just leaned up against the wall, crossing his arms. "The day before yesterday, you said I'd have to pay you daily, right? And that we would decide on the prices later?"

"I did," Sabine confirmed, wincing inwardly. She had wanted to toy with Dev about all the money he was paying before, but he seemed to be taking it more seriously than she thought.

"Well?" the kid pressed. "Name your price."

Sabine arched an eyebrow. That was unexpected. He seemed pretty confident that he could pay any amount Sabine threw at him. "Thirty-five dollars a day," she said finally.

"Twenty," Dev immediately bargained.

Sabine narrowed her eyes, a slight smile playing at her lips. "Twenty-five."

"Deal," the kid said and they sealed the price with a handshake.

Sabine looked at him for a moment longer and then set to work on his dirt bike.

"So," Dev said from behind her. "What've you been up to?"

She shrugged with out turning. "Welding," she answered. "Fixing cars. Painting. Tagging public property."

Sabine could her the surprise in his voice as he exclaimed, "Tagging? Like, with graffiti art and stuff?"

"That's what tagging is, kid."

He came and crouched next to her. "You know that's illegal, right?"

Sabine stared hard at him, holding up an old, black-leathered wallet. "So is _stealing,_ " she said.

The kid's eyes bugged. "Hey!" he exclaimed, searching his pockets. "I-"

Sabine opened the wallet. "You stole from Mr...'Garazeb Orrelios,'" she said, reading the driver's license. Sabine narrowed her eyes at the name. It seemed awfully familiar.

Dev snatched the wallet away. "Sabine!" he scolded. "You can't thieve a thief! That goes against the natural order of things!"

She hid a smile and suddenly noticed a small, folded, white sheet of paper on the garage floor. It must have fallen out of the wallet. Sabine picked it up and opened it but before she could read it, the kid grabbed it too.

"What was that?" Sabine asked. She didn't usual care about this kind of stuff but she felt like the paper was important.

"Nothing," Dev said, obviously lying. "Just a little side job."

Sabine shrugged inwardly and turned back to the bike.

"Hey," the kid said casually. "Do you know what a, uh, an operating number is?"

"Sure," she said easily. "It's a string of numbers that represents an individual person who works in the military. They're very important. Very rare." Sabine looked at Dev. "Why'd you ask?"

"Well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. "My little side job I was talking about? I'm trying to find someone."

"Really," Sabine said, turning around. "Can I ask why?"

Dev shrugged uncomfortably. "It's just out of curiosity."

"Mm."

"Anyway," he continued, "this person I'm trying to find, they work in the military, I think."

Sabine turned and continued fixing the bike. "They'd have to if they have an operating number," she said.

"Yeah," he agreed. "So, I'm wondering, is there a military base or something like that nearby?"

"'Course," Sabine said. "About twenty miles from Lothal County is a U.S. Air Force base. I hear they're transferring a lot of recruits over right about now."

"So," Dev said slowly, "Would it be possible for me to somehow call this U.S Air Force base and give them the operating number so I can find the person I'm looking for?"

"Ha, you can't just _call_ an entire Air Force base," Sabine said, finding the idea almost funny.

"Well," the kid sputtered, "how would I do it?"

She stared at him. "Is this _really_ that important to you?"

Dev sighed. "Yeah," he said finally. "Yeah, it really is. If I don't find this person, I'm gonna go crazy."

Sabine pursed her lips. "Okay," she said after a moment's hesitation. "Get out some paper and write these directions down."

The kid scrambled for a pencil and paper.

"Alright," she started off. "If you want to exchange the operating number for your person's information, listen.

"You want to call zero-zero-eight, eight-eight-eight, eight-eight-eight-eight. Okay?"

Dev cleared his throat. "How many eights is that?"

"Two zeros," Sabine said impatiently, "Eight eights. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Now, when you get on the line, there will be a computer stating that it's a private line. All you have to do is say the code phrase, 'By the light of Lothal's moons.'"

The kid frowned. "'By the light of Lothal's moons'... That... That doesn't even make any sense!"

"It's not supposed to!" Sabine snapped. "It's a code phrase. Now, are you with me?"

Dev wrote her instructions down. "Yeah."

"Then," she continued, "you ask for Ketsu Onyo. And no matter what, don't let whoever's on the line intimidate you. They'll try to see if you have the credentials to even be on that number, but you have to be adamant. Make sure you have Ketsu on the line before you give any operating number. Got it?"

"Yeah," the kid said, looking down at his paper. "Who's Ketsu Onyo?"

Sabine balled her hands into fists. "J-Just someone who owes me," she said through clenched teeth. Hearing Ketsu's name aloud brought back bad memories. Memories of the Academy, memories of being betrayed, memories of running away...

 _Stop,_ Sabine told herself. _Stop and focus._

She let out a controlled breath and looked at Dev.

"I'm ready when you are," he said.

Sabine sighed. "After you get Ketsu on the line, tell her my full name, Sabine Wren, and give the operating number over. In turn, she'll give you your person's phone number, email address, spouse's name, probably even their present location. Okay, Dev?"

The kid seemed to flinch at his name. "Uh, yeah. Yeah," he said.

"And," Sabine added. "If Ketsu gives you pushback, tell her I forgive her."

Dev looked her over with questioning brilliant electric blue eyes. "Sure," he said softly.

"Well," Sabine said, shaking off her worries and standing. "That's all." She walking over to him absently realizing that they were roughly the same height.

"You know," the kid said, glancing at the floor, "you didn't have to do this for me."

Sabine gave him a slight smile. "I know," she said. "I guess you owe me one."

"Nah, we're even," Dev said jokingly. "Those outrageous prices for fixing my dirt bike are payment enough for the instructions you gave me."

He gave her another lopsided grin and started to leave.

"It's not all I think about, you know," she said suddenly, feeling guilty. Dev turned. "The money," Sabine continued. "It's not all I think about."

"I know," the kid said with a reckless grin plastered on his face. "You think about _me_ the rest of the time!"

She arched an eyebrow as if to say, _Seriously?_ And Dev gave her a two-fingered salute, walking out the garage.

Sabine stared at his back, watching him leave. _If only he knew how much of that were true,_ she reflected.

* * *

Lothal County was so old, so simple, so run-down, so out of date, that it still had those old-timey phone booths.

Fortunately.

Since Ezra didn't have a phone, he stopped at one of them. Ezra dropped a few coins into the slit, pressed the numbers 008-888-8888, and waited. As the phone rang, he had plenty of time to reflect on his talk with Sabine.

 _She called me Dev,_ Ezra thought numbly. _Sabine told me her full name yet I haven't given her my real one._

He mentally shook himself.

 _Stop thinking like that,_ Ezra ordered. _I never tell_ anyone _my real name. Ever. It's too big of a risk. If I used my real name, Social Services would know where I've been. Know what I've done. I'd be going to a jail cell instead of an orphanage._

 _-This is a restricted line,-_ an automated voice crackled over the phone, making Ezra jump. - _Please hang up immediately.-_

"I, uh," Ezra fumbled, forgetting Sabine's instructions. He quickly got out the crumpled paper he wrote her directions on.

"By the light-" he read.

 _-This is a restricted line,-_ the automated voice interrupted. - _Please hang up immediately.-_

"By the light of Lothal's moons!" Ezra yelled before the computer could stop him.

There was a whirring sound and then a click.

 _-Code phrase excepted,-_ the automated voice said.

Ezra sighed. "Yes," he breathed.

 _"This is the United States of America, Air Force Base eleven point eight,"_ someone said over the phone. _"How may I assist you?"_

"I, uh," Ezra stuttered, everything moving really fast. He glanced at the name on the paper. "I need to speak with Ketsu Onyo."

 _"Ketsu Onyo,"_ the person repeated over the phone, sounding bored. _"I'll need your credentials before attempting contact with this person."_

"Credentials?" Ezra spat, manipulating his voice to sound like someone in command. "My word should suffice. Get me on the line with Ketsu Onyo."

The person on the other side of the phone was silent before replying, _"I just checked the databanks, sir. There is no one named Ketsu Onyo in all the archives."_

Ezra banged his fist down on the phone booth's glass walls, making sure the sound carried over the phone. "Enough of this game! You _will_ get me Ketsu Onyo _immediately._ Clear?"

 _"Sir-"_

"You _will,_ underling!" Ezra roared. "Or so help me I will inform your superiors of your insubordination and have you eradicated out of the system! A man of my status and stature should not be made to wait!"

There was a pause and then the a quiet voice said, _"I'm transferring you over to Ketsu Onyo's line now."_

Ezra sighed inwardly. What a relief. He had started running out of big words.

 _"Hello?"_ a female voice said.

"Is this Ketsu Onyo?" Ezra asked eagerly.

 _"Yes,"_ the lady on the other side of the phone answered. _"Who's speaking?"_

"Let's just say... a friend."

The female voice sounded cautious when she replied, _"Fine,_ friend. _What are you calling me for?"_

Ezra hesitated. "I need you to run an operating number."

 _"Then you've got the wrong office,"_ she said immediately over the phone. _"Call someone else."_

"No!" Ezra said suddenly before Ketsu could hang up. "Sabine Wren told me to call you. She said you owed her one."

There was a long, long pause. Ezra could practically feel the pent-up waves of emotion getting bigger and bigger on the other side of the phone. _"Who. Are. You."_ Ketsu said slowly, the tension thick.

"A friend," Ezra repeated. "Sabine-"

 _"Sabine is a traitor!"_ the lady over the phone roared. _"I owe her nothing! Nothing except a blade in her back and knife to her throat!"_

Ezra froze. What had he gotten himself into?

"What happened?" he asked. "I-I thought-"

 _"You thought wrong, boy!_ _And next time you see that snake-hearted turncoat, tell her I should have finished the job!"_

"Wait," Ezra said gravely, knowing Ketsu was about to hang up. "You... You tried to kill Sabine?"

 _"Eh,"_ the lady on the other side of the phone seemed to say with a shrug. "I left her for dead. Not that that's any of your business, friend."

"Ketsu," Ezra said, feeling uncharacteristically unproblematic. "Whatever's happened in the past is _the past._ You need to let it go."

 _"Scars don't heal, kid,"_ the lady said quietly. _"Some wounds are just too deep."_

"True," Ezra conceded. "But you don't have to bleed to death. You can clean yourself up and start fresh. But _you_ have to make that decision, Ketsu."

The words pored out of Ezra. He didn't know where all this good advice was coming from, but he did know it was from somewhere deep inside him. From someplace he didn't know he had.

When Ketsu said nothing, he added, "Sabine told me she forgave you. She let go of her anger and bitterness to help me. Now the only question... Is will you forgive yourself?"

 _"Ah, blast it, kid,"_ Ketsu said angrily after awhile. _"Who are you? And don't say a friend!"_

Ezra smiled slightly. "Call me Dev. Dev Morgan."

 _"Fine, Dev Morgan. I'll... I'll help you out. What did you want?"_

Ezra silently pumped a fist into the air. Yes! She was going to help him!

"I need to exchange an operating number for information," Ezra told Ketsu.

"Information on Hera Syndulla Jarrus."

* * *

Kanan Jarrus sat on the sofa in their apartment.

He was staring at the rusty-colored dog who in turn was staring at him.

"Hera!" Kanan called, not breaking eye contact. "This dog's giving me the creeps."

His wife glanced at him. "Chopper's just an animal, dear," Hera said. "Nothing to be afraid of."

Kanan wrinkled his nose. "I'm not _afraid_ of it," he said, finally looking away. "It's just... weirding me out."

Kanan stood and walked over to Hera. She seemed distracted. "You okay?" he asked.

Hera looked up, startled. "What? Yeah, I..I'm fine. Just... Thinking about the Air Force base."

Kanan nodded understandingly. "You're going to have to go back to work soon."

"Yes," she answered. "And you have to find a job too."

Kanan put his hands on her arms. "Ah, let's not worry about that now," he said, smiling his troublemaker grin. "It's still not for a few days and-"

Kanan broke off. He looked over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

"What is it?" Hera asked softly.

"I-"

Another pull. It started somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach. A gut-feeling pull.

"Something's about to happen," he murmured.

"What?"

"Hera," Kanan said distractedly. "I... I don't know but I feel like something's coming. Someone's looking for us."

"What do you mean?" his wife pressed. "Like someone bad? Since I work in the military, I've made a lot of enemies. Maybe it's-"

"No," Kanan interrupted, walking to the fire escape window in the apartment. "It's not like that... I don't know. I just feel like someone's looking for us."

He looked out the window and at Lothal County's rising sun.

"And all I know is that our lives are about to change drastically."

 **That's all for now people! And I'm really excited about this next chapter. Can't tell you what it's about but you're welcome to guess:)** **I hope you have a good time playing with all your Christmas gifts (I know I will!)**

 **P.S. Anyone catch that Warriors curse LOL Sorry but I read all the books and I thought for _sure_ being called snake-hearted was a real insult! It isn't. Oh well.**

 **Specter7 out.**


	10. Chapter 10: Half-Baked Plan

**¡Hola, mi amigos! Specter7 here! I am** **thrilled** **with all the support I've been getting:) Thanks, guys! I hope you like this chapter, it's got some funny parts, some serious parts, and some downright sad parts. Oh, the feels, people. The feels! Read and...**

 **May the Force be with you.**

"Okay," Ezra said. "Hera Syndulla lives in the Plains Apartments on the Eastern side of Lothal County, in apartment Zero-Three-Dash-One. Right?"

 _"Right,"_ Ketsu confirmed.

"And her husband's name is Kanan Jarrus. Right?"

 _"Right."_

"And Hera starts work for U.S. Air Force Base Eleven-Point-Eight in two days. Right?"

 _"Right. So you have the rest of today and tomorrow to get to this Hera Syndulla before she starts work. Once she does, she'll turn in her operating number to her commander and they'll have known someone else activated it."_

"And they can trace it back to you," Ezra finished.

 _"Yes,"_ Ketsu confirmed again. " _I'm sticking my neck out for you, kid. So... tell Sabine... we're even."_

Ezra was quiet for a moment. "Why don't you just tell her yourself?"

He heard her sigh. _"Like you said, Dev Morgan. The past is the past. We've gone our separate ways now."_

Ezra frowned. For some reason, what she said bothered him. "Ketsu-"

 _"I helped you."_ the lady interrupted. _"Don't ask me do anything more."_

"...Fine," Ezra said quietly. "I suppose this is it. Thank you. And... and I'll tell Sabine what you said."

 _"...Wait,"_ Ketsu seemed to say hesitantly. _"About Sabine... how much has she told you about her past?"_

Ezra narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

 _"She didn't tell you anything, huh? Well, if she didn't want to, I won't tell you either. But a fair warning, Dev... Stay away from her. Sabine Wren is dangerous. She's done terrible things; things people would only have nightmares about."_

Ezra was silent. Finally, he coldly bit out, "Well, I guess we have something in common, then."

* * *

He looked at the lean girl, watching as she gathered her stuff together.

Ketsu's words rang in Ezra's ears: _Stay away from her._

He walked up to Sabine. She was kneeling on the Panel Eight garage floor, gathering her wrenches together.

"Hey," Ezra said.

She glanced up at him, amber-brown eyes reflected the lowering sun.

 _Sabine Wren is dangerous._

"Back again?" the teen teased Ezra.

"I knew you'd miss me if I didn't see you before you left," he said, only half-heartedly flirting. Ketsu's voice still echoed in the back of his mind.

 _Stay away..._

 _Dangerous..._

 _Sabine Wren._

"You talk to Ketsu?" she asked, ignoring his statement.

Ezra wanted to smile when he heard a note of hopefulness in her voice, but then frowned when he remembered Ketsu's words.

"Yeah," Ezra answered.

"What'd she say?" Sabine asked.

 _How much has she told you about her past?_

 _...terrible things..._

 _...nightmares..._

 _Sabine Wren._

Ezra stared hard at Sabine, wanting to speak, but not knowing what to say. He finally lifted his chin. "Ketsu said... you're both even now."

* * *

"Do you have an eight?"

"Go fish."

Hera sighed and pulled a card from the deck.

It had been her idea to start a game of Go Fish with her husband to get his mind off of that weird feeling that had been bugging him. No matter what she said, he insisted someone was trying to find them. Hera personally didn't know what to think, but she trusted Kanan's instincts. If he had an odd sense, something was usually about to happen. That sixth sense her husband had had gotten him out of multiple weapons dealing situations. He seemed to have an overabundance of luck.

"Do you have a seven?" Kanan asked.

Even at Go Fish.

Hera handed him the card and he made a pair. "Blast it, Kanan," she muttered angrily. "This isn't even fair."

"Real battles usually aren't," he said teasingly with an arched eyebrow.

Chopper bounded up to them, 'accidentally' slapping Kanan with his helicopter blade-like tail.

"Hey," Kanan growled.

Chopper just huffed at him and then came to sit loyally by Hera's side.

Hera watched as Kanan rolled his eyes and asked for a three.

"Go fish," she replied, relaxing. Perhaps Kanan's luck did have a limit.

Chopper sniffed the cards in Hera's hand and she gently pushed him away. "Trying to play, Chop'," she said.

The dog looked at Hera with big, black eyes and then turned and sat next to Kanan.

"Ha!" her husband said victoriously. "He _does_ like me more!" Kanan tried to pet the rusty-colored dog and Chopper snapped at him, white fangs barely missing fleshy skin. "Yikes!" Kanan yelped, looking angrily at the animal. "Fine, I'm not your favorite."

He turned back to the card game. "You're go, Hera," he said.

She hesitated. She knew Kanan most likely didn't have a six or an Ace... So what other card should she ask for?

Chopper yipped and Hera glanced up. The dog shuffled his paws and licked his his nose twice. Hera cocked an eyebrow and then looked back at her cards. She had a two. Was she just imagining it or...

Hera glanced at Chopper. He whined eagerly and licked his nose twice again.

She shrugged. Maybe she would try it just for kicks.

"Do you have a two?" Hera asked.

Kanan wrinkled his nose and looked at her. He pulled out a card and tossed it to her.

"Yup."

She stared at the card and then at Chopper. His tail was whipping side to side furiously.

"You okay?" Kanan asked.

"What?" Hera said distractedly, trying to keep from smiling from ear to ear. "Yes, I'm fine, love. Do you have a..."

Chopper licked his nose once, twice, tree times, four times... and stopped.

"A four?"

Now Kanan was frowning. "Yeah," he said. "More then one actually."

He handed her two fours and Hera made the pair.

Hera slowly smiled a knowing, shifty smile.

 _Kanan, Kanan, Kanan..._ she thought. _It looks like your luck's run out after all._

* * *

Six rematches later, Hera watched as Kanan threw down his cards in a fit. "I give up!" he yelled. "You're unbeatable. It's...It's not even humanly possible to win this many times! It's-It's-"

"Not fair?" Hera suggested.

"Yes!"

"Real battles usually aren't."

Kanan stared at her, his aquamarine eyes wide. He finally sighed. "You got me," he admitted.

Kanan suddenly frowned. He stared hard at the ground.

Hera tilted her head and took his hand. "Dear," she said confusedly. "It's-It's just a game-"

Kanan put a finger to her lips. "Shh," he said gently. "It's not that... 'Member that feeling I've been getting?"

"Yeah..."

"It just came on strong. Whoever's been looking for us is almost here.

* * *

Ezra sprinted across a roof top as the sun set, casting strands of color all across the evening sky.

He sprang across a huge gap between buildings and landed with a roll. He kept running.

There was a good chance Social Services were looking for him here in Lothal County. So, as a way to avoid detection, Ezra traveled along the rooftops. He was betting no one would even notice him up there. People nowadays were always so concerned with their phones and text messages and apps and a bunch of other nonsense to look up. Ezra couldn't comprehend how people his age were so worried about what everyone thought about them. Honestly, the thought hardly ever even crossed Ezra's mind. If people thought he looked trashy and wished he would take better care of himself...

HA!

 _Keep on dreaming, people,_ Ezra thought, shaking his head in amusement as he ran.

He was an orphan and homeless! He ate out of garbage cans and stole to survive. And people thought he should be worried about his _appearance?_

Ezra suddenly stopped. It was getting too dark to keep on traveling on the roofs. One wrong slip and he would plummet thirty feet.

Ezra carefully made it to a building's fire escape and walked down. He paused when he reached the ground. Ezra had wanted to find Hera Syndulla Jarrus before nightfall but it looked like that wouldn't be an option. He still had a while before he reached the Plains Apartments.

"I guess I'll just walk until I find a place to sleep," Ezra muttered and started traveling in the general direction of the Plains Apartments.

All the while, he mumbled to himself. Not having any companion to talk to for most of his life, Ezra had become very good at keeping himself occupied. So, Ezra talked to himself all the time.

"What'd you think about Sabine?" he asked himself.

That one caught him a little of guard. What _did_ he think about Sabine?

"She doesn't seem dangerous," Ezra muttered. "And I sure enough don't want to stay away from her like Ketsu said."

But Sabine _did_ seem different. A whole lot different than the other cute girls he'd flirted with before. She was guarded and seemed awfully secretive.

He pictured Sabine as... more of a loner than anything. A lone wolf. Someone completely capable of taking care of herself. Independent.

Ezra had been forced to be independent. With no one to turn to, he had grown up real quick. Out on the streets, Ezra learned to trust no one. He learned that he could only take care of one person; himself. That was part of the reason why he never stayed in one place: so he didn't rely on anyone or anything else except his wits.

Ezra stopped. He must have been walking for along time; the moon was already high in the sky. He might've even passed up the Plains Apartments.

Ezra spotted a run-down donut shop and right on cue, his stomach growled. He hurried to the shop and hid behind a dumpster. A single lightbulb was on in the shop yet the door read 'CLOSED.'

Ezra watched as the donut shop's manager swept the floor one last time. He then took all the left over donuts on the racks that hadn't sold that day and tossed them in a trashcan.

Ezra's eyes bugged. All that _food?_ Being thrown away?

Suddenly, without warning, the shop manager flung open the door, dragging the trashcan behind him.

Ezra scrambled away, hiding behind the dumpster.

"Hey!" the shop manager shouted. "Who's out there?"

Ezra swallowed. His stomach growled again, but this time it was so loud, it was more like a roar than a growl.

Ezra poked his head out behind the dumpster. _I haven't ate food since last night,_ he thought. _And even that was just a half-eaten banana I found on the ground._

The shop manager had scruffy hair that was somewhere in between white and blond. He had a short mustache and surprisingly kind green eyes underneath heavy brows.

Ezra slowly crawled out from behind the dumpster.

The man's surprise was obvious. "Hello, there!" he exclaimed. "Who are you?"

Ezra warily looked at the man. "I'm no one. Just hungry."

"I'm Morad Sumar. You can call me Mr. Sumar," the kindly old man said. "And I don't have any food except for the old donuts. Not sure how good they'd taste, but-" he broke off when he saw Ezra's expression.

"Have at it, kid," he said, leaving the trashcan on the steps and going back inside.

As soon as the door closed, Ezra leaped forward for the trashcan. He grabbed a chocolate-iced donut and took a ravenous bite out of it.

Amazing.

It tasted just as good as food bought from a store!

Ezra ate and ate until his stomach was stuffed.

He glanced back at the the store manager, Mr. Sumar, silently thanking him and took off.

* * *

Morad Sumar frowned as he wiped off the counters. Was it just his imagination or did that kid look like...

No, no. It couldn't have been him.

Ezra Bridger had been taken to an orphanage far, far away from Lothal County where he was born. It was impossible that he would end up back here. ...Right?

Mr. Sumar walked to his office in the back of the shop and opened one of the junk drawers. Three people stared back up at him. The photo had Ephraim Bridger, big, strong, and broad-shouldered. And then Mira Bridger, beautiful, young, and bright-eyed. And then there was the little boy in the middle. He was seven, with copper-colored skin, huge blue eyes, and a mop of black hair.

Mr. Sumar's eyes widened. It was. The kid he saw and the kid in the picture was the same person.

Ezra Bridger lived.

Mr. Sumar ran to the back door and stumbled out. "Ezra?" Mr. Sumar called, but it was to empty air.

He was gone.

* * *

Ezra had found a bench just outside a playground that looked comfy enough to pass for a bed.

Ah, who was he kidding?

The bench was hard, the metal rusted, and the trashcan next to it stunk something awful.

"Think positive," Ezra chided himself aloud. "I'm full. And a full Ezra is a happy Ezra."

He nodded and curled up on the bench, zipping his jacket all the way up and pulling the hood over his head. Ezra tucked his hands into the sleeves as the cold started to creep into his fingers. Yet he was happy. His belly was full and that was a great thing in itself.

"Goodnight," Ezra told the empty air, wishing, not for the first time, that he actually had someone to tell goodnight to.

* * *

"Look what we have here!" a voice said mockingly.

Ezra's eyes flew open as he felt a strong hand grab him by his jacket and pull him up viciously.

It was a teenager. Probably seventeen or eighteen with two other buddies.

"Awe," one of the other teens said. "It's just a little kid!"

Ezra looked up at them with wide blue eyes.

"What's wrong little kiddy?" the boy who was holding him said, sneering. "You gonna cry?"

Ezra suddenly kicked the teen's kneecap and the boy let out a cry of pain, dropping Ezra. He landed on the balls of his feet and took of running.

"That's right!" one of the teenagers yelled after Ezra. "Run away little kiddy! This is _our_ part of Lothal County!"

"And don't come back!" another one hollered.

"Don't worry," Ezra muttered as he ran. "I won't."

After several long minutes of sprinting, he finally came to a stop. _Where am I?_ Ezra thought wonderingly. He was walking down the sidewalk, with nothing but the occasional lamppost to light his way.

The sky was still dark but was slowly getting lighter and lighter. Ezra guessed it was about five A.M. in the morning.

He yawned and stretched. "I'm lost," Ezra said glumly. "Aren't I?" He sighed and sat against a building's wall. There was nothing to do but to wait until the sun was fully up and ask for directions.

"Maybe trying to find Hera wasn't the best idea," he muttered to himself. "I mean, what would I even do when I saw her?"

Ezra shrugged. He... well, he didn't know _what_ he was going to do when he finally found Hera. It had been a half-baked plan, based on his feelings.

"You can't trust your feelings," he told himself. "You should know that by now."

Ezra hung his head. Yeah, he was right. Maybe he should just go back to Sabine... What if she fixed his dirt bike while he was gone? He could be on the road right now!

"But I don't want to be," Ezra breathed.

...Blast it! Why was he so conflicted? He needed to leave Lothal County before Social Services found him! The sooner the better!

Ezra curled his fingers into a tight fist.

But Sabine... well, he'd grown to like her a whole lot. Yeah, she kinda shrugged him off, and, yeah, she seemed sorta distant... but there was something so different about her! Something Ezra couldn't shake.

And what about Hera Syndulla? And Kanan Jarrus?

Ezra was going to go crazy if he didn't find faces to associate with those incredibly familiar names. And if Ezra just walked away from this opportunity, especially when she was so close, how could he live with himself? How could he go throughout his life, knowing he passed up the one place he felt he truly belonged?

That did it.

Ezra would find Hera _today._ As soon as the sun came up, he would get directions to the Plains Apartments, find the room 03-1, and see Hera Syndulla and Kanan Jarrus with his own eyes.

 _And if they aren't in the apartment?_ he asked himself cynically.

"Then I'll wait on their doorsteps!" Ezra answered. "But I'm finding them. Hera _and_ Kanan.

" _Today._ "

 **Yeah, go Ezra! Find 'em!**

 **So, sorry to keep on leaving you guys off on an almost-cliffhanger, but I gotta keep the audience on the edge of their seats! Stay hungry for the next chapter and don't forget to Follow/Fav and review!**

 **P.S. Little side note here, but did anyone see the midseason trailer for Season 3? It's AMAZING!**

 **Ahem. Sorry. Just had to get that off my chest.**

 **Specter7 out.**


	11. Chapter 11: All Alone

**Specter7 here! This chapter took longer than all my other ones because school just started up again and I've been** **crazy** **busy. Also, this chapter is long and super important to the story. Plus, I accidentally deleted it like three times and had to rewrite it. Oops!**

 **May the Force be with you.**

 _Kanan walked along the sidewalk with nothing but the occasional lamppost to light his way._

 _He traveled for another moment or so until he noticed a bench beside an empty playground. Kanan walked over to it and laid down on the bench like it was a bed. It was so uncomfortable, with the coldness of the metal rods seeping through his clothes and into his skin. The rust from the bench stained his jacket with streaks of brown and the repulsive smell of garbage tainted the air._

 _In the back of his head, Kanan was recoiling in disgust. But on the outside, he was smiling as he curled up into a little ball on the bench to sleep._ Why am I so happy? _Kanan asked himself._ This is _awful._

 _Was it because he was full? Because his belly wasn't growling with hunger?_

 _Kanan wasn't able to control his eyes as they closed sleepily. He felt so content. So happy. Yet deep inside, there was an awful ache. An ache that had been pushed aside for what seemed like years._

 _Kanan felt lonely._

 _So lonely._

 _No one was with him to share his pain. No one was with him to cry when he cried or laugh when he laughed. Where was his family?_

 _But Kanan ignored his feelings. He didn't want to worry about that. It was too painful to dwell on what he didn't have. Kanan was full. And a full Kanan was a happy Kanan._

 _"Goodnight," Kanan whispered, wishing not for the first time that he had someone to say goodnight to._

* * *

Kanan opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling for awhile before closing his eyes again. _A dream,_ he thought. _It was a dream._

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. All that pent up emotion welled up inside him. He had never felt so... so... _alone._ There seemed to be a gaping hole inside him. One that he hadn't felt in years. Kanan had never felt so lonely since his... since his runaway days...

Kanan shook his head. No sense in bringing up those emotions again. That was a can of worms he'd only just been able to close.

Kanan sat up in his bed and swung his legs over the edge. _That was... That was one crazy dream,_ he reflected. _It felt so_ real. _So stupefyingly real._

Kanan's fingers still seemed numb from the cold bench, his legs seemed to ache from the long walk, the smell of the garbage seemed to clog his nostrils, and he could still taste... what was it? Stale... Stale donuts?

Kanan wrinkled his nose. _That..._ he thought, ... _That was disgusting._ He smacked his lips together. Kanan swore he could still taste those nasty donuts.

 _I need to clear my head,_ he thought _. Maybe go for a walk and get some real donuts. Anything to get this taste out of my mouth._

Kanan stood and got some more decent clothes on. _Guess I'll take Chopper with me on the walk,_ he added. _Who knows? Maybe we'll even bond._

Kanan paused and then laughed aloud.

Heh. Who was he kidding?

* * *

Ezra craned his head upwards at the lightening sky. The sun just barely peeked out above the Lothal County horizon, outlining the buildings in a golden haze.

Ezra sighed as streaks of color lined the early morning sky. Usually he was too hungry to care about such beauties. But Ezra had eaten just last night so today, he sat and enjoyed the sunrise.

Eventually, Ezra stood and sighed. _Time to find Kanan and Hera,_ he thought. _But... where do I look?_

Ezra was totally lost. He had no clue where the Plains Apartments were and had no way to find them.

"Maybe I can ask for directions," Ezra muttered to himself. He walked out of the thin alley he was in and onto the sidewalk. It was about six or seven in the morning and a few people milled about.

Ezra spotted one and went up to him.

"Hey," Ezra greeted. "Um, do you know where the Plains Apartments are?"

The guy glanced at him then shrugged and shook his head.

Ezra frowned. _Well,_ he _was very unhelpful,_ Ezra thought.

He suddenly spotted another person, a lady with frizzy orange hair, and walked up to her.

"'Scuse me," Ezra said, "Could you tell me where the Plains Apartments are?"

She just looked at him, gripped her purse tighter, and kept walking.

Ezra put his hand on his hips. Why was everyone being so unneighborly?

He kept on asking person after person, getting the same response, until he'd had it. Ezra saw a young man and ran up to him.

"Where's the Plains Apartments?" he demanded.

The young man looked shocked. "What?" he sputtered.

"Plains Apartments," Ezra repeated. "Where's it at?"

The man looked at him with disdain. "I don't know, kid," he said. "There's a pit stop back there." He gestured behind him. "They might be able to give you directions."

Ezra stepped closer, unknowingly blocking the young man's way. "That's not good enough!" he growled. " _Where are the Plains Apar-_ "

"I _told_ you I don't know!" The young man interrupted. "Now get lost, Loth-rat!" He shoved Ezra hard and kept walking.

Ezra let himself be pushed aside, thinking about the man's last statement. _Loth-rat,_ he reflected. _Must be Lothal County's version of being called a street rat._ The term seemed familiar. Like it fit him.

Unfortunately.

Ezra sighed and walked to the pit stop the guy was talking about. It was a low building with rusted metal columns that held up a wooden overhang. And above that was what looked like the head of a painted U.S. Air Force jet mounted into the brick building next to the words, 'OLD JHO'S PIT STOP.'

Ezra peeked inside the building. There weren't even doors to the pit stop; it was all an open area.

He walked inside. _Hopefully,_ Ezra thought, _someone knows where the Plains Apartments are._ He looked around. Even at seven in the morning, the place was bustling with people.

Ezra steered clear of the bar area and walked up to the counter. Behind the register was an old man that looked to be in his late fifties or early sixties. He had a dark green baseball cap pulled low over scruffy eyebrows and heavy eyelids. His face was lined with wrinkles yet he seemed nice enough. The old man wore a dirtied white uniform that had yellow and brown accents which covered a slight potbelly.

"What can I do for you, my boy?" the older man asked in a slight Northern accent.

Ezra glanced at him distractedly. "I-um-I need directions. Do you know where the Plains Apartments are?"

The pot-bellied man nodded. "Sure do, but if _you_ want to know, you gotta do me a favor."

Ezra narrowed his eyes. Maybe this guy wasn't so nice after all. "...What?"

He patted the counter. "Pull up a chair and let me get you something," the old man answered. "You look like you haven't eaten in days."

Ezra stared at him, eyes wide. He was... he was giving him food? Real food? Like, real-food-from-a-restaurant real food?

The old man didn't wait for him to reply and went back into the kitchen area. Ezra sat down in a seat behind the counter in dream-like slowness. In no time, the food was out and he was munching down on a hamburger ravenously.

"What kinda drink you want, my boy?" the old man asked.

Ezra hesitated. "Water, I guess."

He filled Ezra up a cup and slapped a lid and straw on it. Two minutes later, Ezra was leaned back in his chair, eyes closed. He patted his stomach absently, happy to find that it had extended, and this time, not from hunger.

"Full already?" the old man exclaimed. "Why, I figured a half-starved boy like yourself would want more than just a hamburger. And you didn't even eat the fries!"

Ezra shook his head and closed his eyes. "I can't eat anymore," Ezra mumbled. "I'm stuffed."

The old man leaned over the counter. "When's the last time you've eaten?"

Ezra sleepily opened his eyes. "I ate a few donuts yesterday," he said. "And the day before that I had a banana. Well, half of one. That was on the ground. This is actually the best I've eaten in a long time."

In the back of his mind, Ezra was frowning. Why was he telling this man everything? Ezra Bridger never spills his guts to anyone! Why was he being so trusting? _Must be all this food I'm eating,_ he thought suspiciously. _It's getting to my head._

"Well, no wonder you're not eating too much!" the old man exclaimed and began wiping the counter with a damp rag. "Your stomach shrinks anytime you don't eat. Your lil' belly must be the size of a pea right now."

Ezra arched an eyebrow. He found that hard to believe about his stomach shrinking and everything. But he _did_ eat a lot less then kids his age, mostly because he wasn't used to shoveling that much food down his gullet.

"You know who I am?" the old man asked suddenly.

"Nope."

"I'm Jho," he answered. "People call me Old Jho. I run this place."

Ezra suddenly remembered seeing the sign, OLD JHO'S PIT STOP. Ezra had just been given a free meal by the _manager_ of a shop.

"Now," Old Jho said "I gave you my name... what's yours?"

Ezra. Ezra Bridger.

He almost said it... Ezra opened his mouth and almost said it. But for some reason, the two words that came out were completely different.

"I'm Dev."

Old Jho smiled and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Dev."

Ezra gave a hesitant lopsided half-grin. And it felt so fake. He liked the old man, but... Ezra never gave out his real name. Social Services would find him if word got out he was in Lothal County.

"I'll tell you what, Dev," Old Jho said. "I know you're a hungry young man, but I can't be givin' away all my food. So I'll make you a deal. In a week or so, why don't you come on down here and I'll give you some jobs to do around the pit stop. In return, I'll feed you. And if you work real hard, I'll pay you. How's that sound?"

Ezra couldn't believe what he was hearing. "A job?" he asked, his mouth agape. "You're giving me a job?"

"Offering one," the old man corrected. "I know you have to think about it so, like I said, I'll give you a week. And if you still want directions to the Plains Apartments..."

"I do."

"Then go out of those columns, take a right and keep on going until you reach Atollon Road, then take another right. Keep on going until you reach the apartments."

Ezra hurriedly stood up. He had almost forgot about finding Hera and Kanan!

"Thanks, Jho," Ezra told him and headed for the street. As he walked through the rusted metal columns that held up the overhang, he could hear the old man calling behind him.

"And don't forget about my job offer, Dev! I expect you bright and earlier Monday next week!"

Ezra was about to holler back an, 'I will!' when he remembered.

 _I'm not staying in Lothal County,_ Ezra reminded himself. _Social Services is looking for me. ...I'll never see that old man again._

He turned without another word to Jho and walked out into open air.

* * *

Hera turned sleepily in the bed. Faint sunlight filtered through the closed window seals, sending slight rays of light into the room. She glanced at her alarm clock. 7:23.

Hera yawned and sat up. Seven something might have been early for some people, but for Hera, she counted as sleeping in. Normally when she was on-duty, Hera got up at five or earlier.

She stood and glanced at the bed, expecting to find Kanan there sleeping the morning away. But... it was empty.

Hera ran a hand through her long, blond hair. Her husband was up already? _Kanan sure is full of surprises,_ she thought while shaking her head.

Hera walked to the kitchen area and stretched. Kanan wasn't in there either. And Chopper was being awfully quiet...

"Chop?" she called. "Kanan?"

No answer.

 _Maybe I'll call him,_ Hera said. She picked up her phone from off the counter and dialed her husband's number.

"Love?"

 _"Hey, Hera,"_ Kanan's surprised voice said. _"Didn't know you were up. I was trying to get back before you noticed."_

"I noticed, dear," Hera said dryly.

 _"Well... I went ahead and got breakfast. You know, as a celebration of our last day without you having to work."_

Hera smiled slightly. "That's very sweet," she said finally, "but I can read between the lines, Kanan. You can tell me about the real reason you got breakfast when I get there."

 _"Get...where?_

"I coming to you, love. I'm assuming you have Chopper with you?"

 _"Yeah..."_

"And where are you right now?"

 _"At the park on Atollon Road, not far from our apartment. ...You sure you want to come to us? I'm almost home."_

"It's okay, dear," Hera said, going back to their room and slipping on a jacket. "I want to go for a walk. _"_

 _"Alright,"_ Kanan agreed. _"If you want to, I'll be waiting for you."_

"Give me five minutes," Hera said as she put on her shoes.

 _"See you in a few."_

The line went dead and Hera walked out the door.

* * *

Ezra stood in front of a tall, brown-bricked building. The windows were clouded and foggy, the roof molded and gross, the fire escapes rusted and rickety, and the flower bed outside was covered in spindly weeds.

 _So this is the Plains Apartments,_ Ezra thought wryly. _It definitely lives up to it's name: plain._

Ezra shrugged and walked to the front desk.

"Can I help you?" the receptionist asked, arching her eyebrows as if to say, _What's a raggedy kid like you doing here?_

"I'm looking for room Zero-Three-Dash-One," Ezra said, remembering Ketsu's instructions. "I'm gonna see some... friends."

The receptionist relaxed and went back to reading he magazine. "The Zero-Three rooms are on the third level. You'll find the one you're looking for there."

"Thanks," Ezra said and hurried to the stairs. After running up three flights of steps, Ezra came to the right hallway. He stepped outside the door labeled; 03-1.

 _Here it goes,_ Ezra thought, breathing in a nervous breath, and knocked.

One long moment passed.

Then another.

He knocked again, frowning.

Nothing.

Ezra jiggled the doorknob. Locked. Of course it would be. Was he even at the right door? Was he even at the right _apartment?_

 _This is the place Ketsu told me,_ Ezra thought uncertainly. _What if she lied?_

He froze. What if she lied?

"Can't trust anyone," Ezra breathed. He couldn't trust anyone. He _knew_ that. Why was he so willing to trust again and again?

Ezra looked at the doorknob.

"One last chance, Ketsu," he muttered. Ezra slipped his tan-colored backpack off his shoulders and dug out a thin, metal rod. It had ridges and small rifts at the tip: perfect for lock-picking.

Ezra stuck the stick-like rod in the key hole and jiggled it around. With expert hands and nimble fingers, there was a click and the door unlocked.

He was in.

Ezra walked into room 03-1 and shut the door behind him. The apartment wasn't much but with the small kitchen, tiny dining table, warm living room, and comfy couch, it seemed pretty cozy.

"Hello?" Ezra called. His voice echoed in the empty apartment.

Ezra's face fell as he sat in one of the dining table's chairs. He put his head in his hands. _No one's here,_ Ezra thought hopelessly. _Kanan and Hera aren't here._

 _And maybe they never were._

"I can't trust anyone," Ezra mumbled, his heart starting to beat frantically. Ketsu betrayed him. She _must_ have. Ketsu had to have wanted to settle a score with a Sabine and sent Ezra on a wild goose chase out of petty resentment.

Ezra suddenly stood, the chair clattering to the floor. Ketsu had done this! She had wanted to get back at Sabine and Ezra was caught in the middle!

 _Sabine._

She was the one making Ezra soft. She had to be. Before he met her, he never trusted anyone but himself. He _survived._ That's what he did. That's who he was. Ezra was alone and nothing under all the stars would ever change that!

 _Not even..._ he reflected miserably, ... _Not even Sabine..._

Ezra picked the chair up off the floor and set it down gently. He shouldered his backpack and locked the door to the apartment. Ezra took one sad, last look at room 03-1 and left. _For good._

As the door closed, the doors to Ezra's heart closed as well. The little blossoming seed of hope... the hope that maybe he might not have to be alone any more, the hope that he would be more that a street rat-more than a Loth-rat... died. It shriveled up inside him and and disintegrated into tiny little pieces. He would never know Hera Syndulla and Kanan Jarrus. He would never have faces to associate those all-too-familiar names. He really would always be alone.

"Ezra Bridger thieves," he said aloud, his voice hollow. "Ezra Bridger steals.

"Ezra Bridger survives."

* * *

"...So that's why I went to get donuts," Kanan finished.

He watched as Hera arched her eyebrows. "Wow," she said finally. "That was... that was one heck of a dream."

"Yeah," Kanan said. He paused. "You know, I haven't felt that alone since... since my runaway days."

Hera said nothing, just held his hand in hers. Leaning up against Kanan, she eventually spoke. "You're not alone anymore," she said and Kanan looked at her. "You've got me now."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I know," he said finally.

Chopper suddenly barked, ruining the moment.

Hera gave a slight laugh. "And you've got Chopper."

Kanan grabbed the large box to the right of him and set it on his lap. "And I've got tasty, non-stale donuts," he added. "You hungry?"

Hera gave him the stink eye. "You know I'm going back to work at the Air Force base tomorrow. I shouldn't be eating anything so unhealthy-"

"You know you want to."

Hera stared daggers at him for a few more moments before finally sighing. "You're a bad influence on me," she muttered and took one.

Kanan just smiled.

They talked as they ate, sitting on a park bench. Chopper whined and Kanan glanced at the dog. He was at his feet, looking up with grumpy eyes. His face seemed to say, _What am I? Chopped liver? I deserve a treat too!_

"You don't deserve anything," Kanan shot down immediately, shaking his head. That dog had _way_ too big a head.

" _RRRuff!_ " Chopper barked and jumped on the bench, snapping up a donut in his jaws.

"Hey!" Hera exclaimed and Kanan noticed a half smile on her face.

 _She's_ amused _at this?_ Kanan exclaimed mentally.

"Chop!" Kanan yelled after the rust-colored beast. The dog simply ran aways away at sat, his long tongue licking the icing off the donut.

Kanan made a face but then froze. That gut feeling. That unmistakeable pull at the pit of his stomach.

 _He's close,_ Kanan thought. _So close..._

And then there was another pull. But this one seemed to come from his heart and Kanan's pulse started to race. Something was wrong. the person who was looking for them was so close, yet... Kanan feared the person would never find them.

"We've made a mistake," Kanan breathed. He suddenly stood and looked around with wide eyes. Where was he? Where was the person who'd been looking for them?

"Kanan?" Hera asked hesitantly. "What's wrong-"

"He's leaving," Kanan interrupted, beginning to panic.

" _Who's_ leaving?" Hera asked, a worried expression on her face.

"The one who's looking for us!" Kanan said, almost yelling. Oh, no...No, no! Something was wrong! "We made a mistake," Kanan gasped, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "A mistake..."

He started running in the direction of their apartment, Hera chasing after him.

"Kanan!" she called. "Wait!"

He ignored his wife and sprinted as fast as he could toward the Plains Apartments. _No,_ Kanan thought despairingly, _no, something's wrong! He can't give up! He has to find us!_

 _He has to find me._

Kanan stopped suddenly. _He's here... But where?_ Kanan slowly closed his eyes and let out a calm, easy breath. He let go of the anxiety that quickened his heart and just breathed. His sixth-sense had guided him this far, it would guide him now.

He didn't turn as Hera came up next to him. After a moment, he took a step forward, turned to his right, tilted his head ever so slightly... and opened his eyes.

He was looking right at a crouched figure on top a small building. It was a boy with an oversized orange jacket over a white T-shirt. He had longish, jet-black hair parted down the middle that was in desperate need of a trim, and almost-copper colored skin. The kid's piercing blue eyes stared at Kanan unwaveringly and Kanan stared right back.

It was him. The person he'd been sensing. He had finally found them.

"He's here," Kanan whispered.

* * *

Ezra looked down at the two people on the ground. He had just left the Plains Apartments and was traveling along the rooftops when he had felt that tug. That tell-tale tug pulling him to look over the edge of a roof.

And when he did, he had seen a tall, lean, muscular man in his late twenties... standing. Just standing still with his eyes closed.

Ezra watched as the man took a step forward and turned slowly, his eyes still closed. The man tilted his head upwards and Ezra felt his heart stop as the man faced him. He opened his aquamarine eyes and stared right at Ezra's blue ones.

Ezra held the stare unwaveringly, narrowing his eyes. That man... he knew him. He _knew_ him! But... from where?

Ezra suddenly stood, walked to the building's fire escape, and made his way to the ground.

The two adults in front of him were pretty tall. The woman stood close to the man, looking at Ezra curiously.

"He's the one you've been sensing?" she asked quietly. The woman was kind of pretty, Ezra guessed, for an old person. She had long blond hair, fair skin and sharp, sea-green eyes. The lady was dressed comfy with sweatpants, an oversized T-shirt, and a jacket like she'd just rolled out of bed.

"Yeah," the man answered just as quietly. He was even taller than the woman with tanned skin and ripped muscles. The man's brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail, which was kind of cool. He had a short, neatly trimmed goatee and piercing aquamarine eyes. Ezra couldn't decide if the man's eyes were more green, or more blue.

"Who are you?" the man asked sternly.

Ezra smirked. Ha. This guy was trying to act all adult-y to him? Ezra didn't have to listen to what he said! His business was his own.

"What's it to you?" Ezra shot back.

"It's _everything_ to me," the man said immediately and paused.

Ezra frowned. The guy seemed... distressed.

"I... know you," the man said. "I feel like I know you."

Ezra hesitated. Suddenly, everything seemed to click. He knew _exactly_ who this man was!

"Look, kid," the guy said while pinching the bridge of his nose. "How about you tell us your name, and I'll tell you ours."

"Don't need to," Ezra snapped. "I know who your are... Kanan Jarrus."

It was a guess, but he was right. The man, Kanan, looked shocked. "How-"

"And you're Hera Syndulla Jarrus," Ezra added to the woman. "A captain in the U.S. Air Force."

Hera stared at him with her wide sea-green eyes. "You-"

"I know _both_ of you," Ezra interrupted. "I've been looking for you."

"I know," Kanan said. "And we've been waiting."

It was Ezra's turn to be shocked. "...You have?"

"We knew you were coming for a few days now," Hera said, smiling kindly at him.

Ezra looked from the Hera to Kanan. They knew he was coming? But that was impossible!

"Kid," Kanan said, moving closer to him. "I felt you were coming. I knew. And I _swear_ I know you. From somewhere, I have to."

Ezra slowly stepped back, his survival instincts kicking in. "You don't know me," he whispered, shaking his head. "You don't." Why had he even tried to find them? He hadn't even known what he was going to do when he did!

Kanan stepped forward again. "Why don't you come with us and we can talk about it? It's okay-"

"No," Ezra cut off and continued backing up. "I don't know you. I don't know either of you." Ezra pushed away the gut-feeling that told him to stay. No, Ezra was a survivor. He couldn't go with Kanan and Hera! He couldn't rely on them! He could only rely on himself.

"I don't know you!" Ezra repeated, his eye starting to water at what he knew he was about to do.

"Yes, you do. Search your feelings, kid, you know it's true!"

"No!" Ezra yelled. "My feelings are what got me into this mess! I never should have came."

"Kid!" Kanan shouted as Ezra ran away.

"Wait!" Hera called after him.

But Ezra ignored both of them. He ran and ran and ran. Tears streamed down his face and he finally stumbled into an alley, his body racked with sobs.

 _No,_ Ezra thought, shaking his head repeatedly. _I'm alone._

 _I'm alone._

 _I'm alone._

 _Kanan and Hera, they wanted me to come with them._

"But I can't," Ezra whispered. "I'll never be with anyone, ever. I'll never rely on anyone else ever again."

He clenched his teeth at the bitter truth. It hurt right now, but it hurt a whole lot less than what he would feel if he trusted someone else other than himself.

 _People are fickle,_ he told himself, _people are selfish. They're nothing but liars and cheaters! You can't trust Kanan, Ezra! He'd have turned on you the second you went with him._

A tear rolled down Ezra's cheek.

"I came all this way for nothing," he whispered. "Kanan and Hera don't mean anything more to me than names."

 _...Then you really are all alone..._

 _Ezra Bridger._

 **Oh my! Oh, the feels! THE FEELS! Ezra why are you so afraid to trust?!**

 **Ahem. Anyway, I'm willing to bet you're having my same thoughts. So, if you thought this chapter had too much angst or was too sad or whatever, in this chapter I was being real, writing what Ezra had to be feeling. This a very influential part in my story and it had to be done. Also, the next chapter shouldn't be as emotional and I am SUPER excited about it!**

 **By the way, I'm going to be posting less and less frequently. School is crazy right now so I'd say a chapter every other week, tops (hopefully.)**

 **Stay hungry for the next chap, guys! Things aren't gonna be so gloomy :)**

 **Specter7 out.**


	12. Chapter 12: Dev's Identity

_'_ **Sup peoples? Specter7 here. So, I know I crossed my two weeks posting mark but this took a lot longer than I thought it would. Plus, I rewrote most of the chapter to capture their characters more fully. This is a Ezra-Sabine focused chapter and I name it "Dev's Identity," for good reason. There's a bit of playful banter between the two, which I like:) So, read and** **…**

 **May the Force be with you.**

* * *

"The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things but their inward significance."

 **-Aristotle**

* * *

 _Sabine Wren hurried to the dorm. She wanted to get there before the rest of her roommates did._

 _The girl got out a thin key card and put it in the slit. There was a beep and the door unlocked. Sabine rushed inside, closed the door behind her, and jumped to her bed. She took out her sketchpad under the mattress and opened to a new sheet. Sabine slowly relaxed and breathed an easy sigh. It was quiet. No noisy roommates to annoy her or make fun of her, no jealous cadets jeering as she walked down the hallway, and best of all, no instructors telling her what to do every minute of every day._

This is nice, _Sabine thought._ I wish every moment could be like this.

 _She looked down at her sketchpad and an idea formed in her head. There was a tug at the pit of her stomach, and Sabine stared at the paper. A hazy image was in her mind but not fully completed._ I guess I'll have to draw to get it out, _she thought._

 _Sabine readied her pencil and hesitantly started sketching. It was a person, showing only the head and shoulders. It was a boy, maybe a teenager and Sabine started smiling as she drew him. His hair was parted down the middle and sort of long. It swept across his face on both sides and Sabine colored it in heavily, her pencil making the hair a dark, dark, gray. The way she drew him, his eyes seemed to twinkle with laughter and his eyebrows were slightly arched. The boy in her picture had the faintest of smiles that looked more like a lopsided grin._

 _Sabine stared at her picture, shocked. This was some of her best work! And not only that, but she seemed to know that boy!_

But where from? _Sabine asked herself_. I don't think I've ever seen him before in my life.

 _Before she had time to continue pondering this, the door to the dorm burst open. Three girls, several years older then her walked in._

 _"Well, well, well," one of them sneered. "Look who it is! Cadet Perfect getting an early start to her training."_

 _Sabine swallowed. "No, I'm just-"_

 _"Ah, save it, Wren," another said with disdain. "We all know you're hiding after getting a perfect score again in the assessment."_

 _Sabine stiffened. "I am_ not _hiding. I just-"_

 _"Hey!" the third one exclaimed, snatching the sketchbook from her hands. "She's drawing someone." The girl tore the paper out of the rings and showed it to the two others._

 _"That's mine!" Sabine protested, standing up._

 _"He's kinda cute," the first one said, glancing at Sabine, a sneer on her face. "You don't know him do you?"_

 _"No, I-"_

 _"'Cause he's way out of your league."_

 _Sabine swallowed, clenching her teeth. These girls were touching her art. Something_ she _had made. "Give me the paper back," Sabine said, trying not to make her voice waver. "Please."_

 _The leader glanced at the two other girls. All three smiled a not-so-nice smile. "I don't know, Wren," the leader said lazily. "You see... we don't like you. You're too perfect. You're in the Academy, finishing college... at only thirteen years old."_

 _Sabine froze. She knew what they were about to do. "No, please-" she whispered._

 _"So," the leader continued, "I think we will_ not _be giving your little paper back. What do you girls think?"_

 _They smiled hatefully._

 _"That's mine!" Sabine yelled. "Don't-"_

 _The leader crumpled the paper, holding it in front of Sabine's face. She smashed it and smashed it until it was a tiny little ball._

 _"Oh, I'm sorry!" the leader said, mocking an apology. "Did you want this?"_

 _Sabine's jaw was clenched so tight, she half thought her teeth might crack. She felt her face get hot... hot with anger. Smoldering, burning, unquenchable anger._

That was mine, _Sabine thought, her heart rapid with fury._ They touched my stuff and ruined it.

They're bullies.

 _Sabine already knew this and the three girls had done similar, much worse things to her before. But this... this was different. That boy she'd drawn was not like any other work of art._

 _And Sabine was fed up with those three's attitudes._

 _"Grab her sketchpad," the leader ordered with a sneer. She glanced at Sabine. "Let's see what else she's been drawing."_

 _Sabine froze. She was done playing Little Miss Perfect and Little Miss Innocent. Sabine had been trained in many fighting styles and had been the top of her class in all of them. Yet she had never used those skills in the academic part of the Academy because she didn't want the cadets to hate her even more._

 _But there was a point, a breaking point and Sabine had just reached it. Her parents had wanted her to just do her studies and pass without making much a commotion._

 _But no more._

 _That wasn't Sabine and she would not stand for the bullying anymore._

 _As one of the girls reached for her sketchpad on the bed, Sabine slapped a hand on it._

 _"You're not touching this," Sabine said gravely._

 _"Oh-ho-ho!" the leader exclaimed. "Finally, someone found her guts!" She walked closer to Sabine. "So, watcha gonna do, Wren?"_

 _Sabine looked up at her and didn't back away._

 _"I know you won't fight me," the leader boasted. "You don't want to ruin your perfect record, huh?"_

 _"No," Sabine snarled, "But I'm not letting you mess with me anymore."_

 _"Oh, really now?" she said exaggeratedly. "And how are you gonna do that, huh, Wren?" the leader stepped closer, dangling the crumpled up piece of paper which was the boy she'd drawn in front of her face. She slowly started to tear it. "Watcha gonna do if I rip this? Huh, Wren? Watcha gonna do?"_

 _"I'm gonna apologize later," Sabine said and immediately reared back and swung hard._

 _Her fist hit the bridge of the girl's nose and she stumbled back._

 _Sabine looked at the three of the teens in front of her. All had been trained in some form of fighting style so they weren't necessarily the 'all bark, no bite' types of people._

 _But no one was a match for Sabine Wren._

 _As another girl rushed her, trying to tackle her, Sabine positioned one foot against the bed and kneed the girl, using the girl's momentum to throw her up against the mattress. The girl bounced and then slammed into the wall with a_ _ **Thump!**_

 _The second girl threw a few well-aimed punches, all of which Sabine blocked before pulling the girl's wrist and elbowing her in the jaw. The girl stumbled around before her legs gave way and she collapsed._

 _Now, the only one who was left was the leader. The eighteen-year-old girl that had gotten Sabine into this mess in the first place._

 _She had one hand over her nose and the look she gave Sabine was pure hate. "You're going down, Wren," the teen snarled._

 _"I'd like to see you try," Sabine jeered._

 _The teen roared a battle cry and lunged for her. Sabine ducked under her flailing arms and delivered a quick uppercut to the girl's stomach._

 _The leader lurched, off balance, and issued a swift back kick aimed for Sabine's head. Sabine barely had time to block the leader's foot with her forearms before she landed a powerful side kick to Sabine's ribs._

 _Sabine wheezed and was momentarily off-kilter. The leader struck blow after blow, each one Sabine barely deflecting. Sabine finally kicked the girl in the stomach, back-handed her across the face, executed a perfect dropkick to the leader's head, and landed on her feet._

 _The eighteen-year-old dropped, instantly unconscious._

 _Sabine stood slowly, looking around. Her heart finally stopped racing as the adrenaline drained away. All three teens were out cold, strewn about the dorm room. One was on her bunkbed, one was in a heap on the floor, and the third was slouched up against the door._

 _Sabine closed her eyes._ What just happened? _she asked herself silently. Everything went so quick, her anger was so high..._

 _But she'd done it. She'd finally stood up for her own rights and now, they wouldn't bully her anymore._

Yeah, _Sabine thought._ Because now their afraid of you.

 _She bit her lip and closed her eyes._ Afraid... _She didn't want to be feared! She just didn't want to be messed with anymore._

 _Sabine suddenly spotted the crumpled up piece of paper on the floor and picked it up. She unrolled it, revealing the sketch she had made just a few minutes before._

 _Sabine felt a deep pull at the pit of her stomach. Something indescribable about the drawing entranced her. And it wasn't just the boy's good looks, no, no... Sabine felt oddly connected to it._

 _To him._

 _She felt like she knew this boy better than she knew herself, yet she couldn't even remember his name._

 _Sabine took out her pencil and wrote in big, capital letters at the top..._

 _'WHO ARE YOU?'_

* * *

Sabine looked into the mirror. That incident had been three years ago. Now, she was sixteen and half a foot taller. Her hair was no longer down to her ribcage, but cut short, framing her face. It had a streak of color in it, which would have never been allowed at the Academy.

That incident with the drawing had been the start of a spiraling catastrophe. Instead of being punished for beating up her peers, Sabine had been rewarded and put in even more advanced classes. But after trusting the Academy and following its orders blindly, Sabine's eyes became opened. Soon, the Academy's walls became tagged with graffiti art after Sabine saw her school for what it really was:

An empire.

An empire where people were unable to express themselves in any way without being punished. An empire where orders were expected to be followed out without any questions. An empire where every burst of color on the dull and blank walls was a cry of freedom.

 _I'm never going back,_ Sabine swore. _I'll never go back to the Academy. I'll never go back to my parents._

She gripped the sink tight. Her parents. No, her parents were a thing of the past. A distant memory of what Sabine once had. She would _never_ come crawling back to them. No, Sabine had ran away for good.

"I'm never going back," she repeated aloud.

 _So, you're alone,_ she thought to herself. _Alone again._

"Alone is who I am," she muttered. "I had to leave."

Sabine looked at the mirror one last time, and realized suddenly that her eyes were hard and piercing. They held a lifetime of sorrows and hardships. And not only that, but loneliness as well.

Her parents disowned her.

Her brother betrayed her.

Her only friend almost killed her.

 _I'll always be alone,_ she thought sadly.

 _Alone._

The word raced around her head.

 _Alone, alone, alone._

* * *

Ezra was outside the building next to Jay's Auto Shop.

He pressed his back against the bricks, closing his eyes tight. _Remember,_ he thought. _I'm just going to go in there to ask Sabine when she's gonna be done with the bike. I'm not flirting, I'm not getting into any long conversation with her, It's strictly business_.

Ezra nodded. Right. No flirting.

"I can't get too comfortable trusting her," Ezra muttered aloud. "Whenever she's done, it'll be time for me to leave and I can't get too attached."

He nodded to himself again. It was around noon and Ezra had made it back over to Jay's Auto Shop from his... mentally-trying discussion with Kanan and Hera.

Now, Ezra was more sure than ever that he couldn't get close to anyone or bad things would happen. Either to him or to them.

Ezra sucked in a deep breath and turned the corner. He walked over to Panel Eight.

 _No flirting, no talking. No flirting, no talking. No flirting, no talking._

"Hey, Dev," Sabine said.

 _Ask how long until she's done with the bike. Ask how long._

"You doing anything tonight?" Ezra blurted.

 _Shoot._

Sabine looked at him strangely. "Oh, yeah," she said absently. "I'm super busy."

"You are?"

"Uh-huh," Sabine said, turning back to her work. "I've got a whole night of nothing to get to."

Ezra cocked an eyebrow. So she was being sarcastic with him again?

"Well," Ezra said, "that sounds boring."

"It is."

"Tell you what," he said, coming to stand in front of her hunched form. "I'll make your day exciting."

"Will you know?" Sabine muttered, gripping a bolt with her teeth as she used both hands to screw something in under a car's hood.

"Yeah," Ezra continued. "I'll stay with you all day. Give you some motivation to keep working."

"Sure you will, kid," she said and Ezra saw her roll her eyes as she took the bolt out her mouth and put it into the car.

Ezra paused, watching her work. "What're you fixing now?" he asked curiously.

"A 2015 Honda Civic engine," she mumbled.

"Really..." Ezra said, trying to sound interested. But cars really weren't his thing.

He wandered around the shop. It was pretty cool. Tools hung up on the wall and random equipment littered the floor.

 _Man,_ Ezra thought, kicking himself. _Why do I have to be such a ladies' man? It was supposed to be strictly business!_

He shrugged. Well, what was done was done. Besides, maybe it wouldn't be totally awful flirting and possibly befriending Sabine. Who knew? Maybe she would even be willing to go on the run with Ezra.

He snorted at the outrageous thought. _Talk about cliche,_ he reflected. But Ezra still indulged the thought, if only for a moment.

He finally sighed. As much as he wished he wouldn't have to sever the connection he had with Sabine, however thin, Ezra couldn't stay with Sabine. Or leave with Sabine. It would teach him to be dependent on her, and eventually, Sabine would disappoint.

Ezra shook the thoughts away and looked around. "This place is a mess," he murmured. All sorts of mechanic-y things littered the floor with no pattern and oil was dripped and smeared in various places.

The only clean thing in all of Panel Eight was the desk near the back, which was free of clutter. And sitting on the desk was a freshly painted welding mask.

Ezra wandered closer, head tilted in curiosity. It used to be a standard welding mask, with rectangular tinted glass as the visor and a black leather strap to wrap around the back of the wearer's head. But instead of the usual dark gray color, the top-half of the mask was painted a dark magenta with two maroon swirls above the visor that seemed to mimic an owl's eyes or a butterfly's wings.

Ezra's hands hovered over the mask and he touched it gently. Once he was sure the paint wasn't wet, Ezra picked the welding mask up gingerly.

"Hey, Sabine," he called, "what's this?"

She looked over at him. "Art," the teen said simply. "Art."

* * *

Sabine watched as Dev turned her mask around and around in his hands.

"This is amazing," he said and Sabine smiled when she saw the genuine wonder in his eyes.

"Thanks," Sabine said, walking over to the kid. "Spray painted it myself the other day."

"So you're an artist," Dev said, peering at the mask before handing it over.

"Yup."

"And a mechanic."

"And a bunch of other things," Sabine said. "Just like you."

She watched as Dev narrowed his eyes at the hidden layer in her words.

"What'd you mean?" he asked cautiously.

Sabine flipped the mask in her hands. "You're not just a random kid who wants his dirt bike fixed. You're also a thief and a Loth-rat. Not that you'd know what the term means-"

"It's an insult," Dev interrupted. "Another word for street rat. A low life."

Sabine was surprised. "Yeah."

Dev looked at her cockily and gave her his lopsided grin. "I only knew it because I've been called it."

Sabine tilted her head. "So, Dev Morgan. You're a thief," she said and began listing the things off on her fingers. "A Loth-rat. A run-away, I'm guessing, and a punk playing hooky."

"'Punk playing hooky,'" Dev repeated slowly.

"Yeah," Sabine said. "Shouldn't you be in school right now?"

He arched an eyebrow. "I could be asking you the same question,"

"Ha," Sabine said with contempt and began spinning the welding mask on the tip of her forefinger. "I don't _do_ school."

"So, really," Dev said, crossing his arms. " _You're_ the one who's the punk playing hooky."

"No, I really don't do school," Sabine deadpanned. "I graduated college when I was fourteen."

The kid didn't seem to buy her saying even for a second. "Yeah, right," he snorted.

Sabine stopped spinning her mask and used it to point at an area of the wall to her right. "Diploma, right there."

She watched, smiling on the inside as Dev's mouth gaped open like a fish.

"Do you know," he sputtered, "how easy it would be to counterfeit one of those things-"

"Bachelors degree in Demolitions Engineering. Masters in Weapons and Systems Engineering."

Oh, Sabine was enjoying this. Dev was hilarious when he was flabbergasted. His brilliant blue eyes seemed to bug outwards and his jaw was completely slack.

After a full thirty seconds of silence, Dev finally threw his hands up in surrender. "Sabine Wren," he said, shaking his head. "You amaze me."

She slipped her welding mask over her face. "I tend to do that," she said, her voice coming out muffled. Sabine picked her blowtorch off the wall and fused together a little metal rod into a larger metal tube under the car hood. She probably shouldn't be welding things inside a car's hood where highly-flammable gasoline resided, but... Sabine wasn't the kind of person who took to warnings. She was the kind of person people were warned about.

Sabine watched out of her tinted peripheral vision as Dev leaned up against the car.

"So, what about you?" he asked slowly. "You said you're a bunch of other things besides an artist and a mechanic. What else?"

Sabine stiffened and her finger let up off the blowtorch trigger. _What else?_ As in, what else was she besides her current occupation... _What else?_

A child prodigy.

A loner.

A run-away.

A hobo.

An ex-cadet.

An ex-rule-follower.

An ex-weapons designer.

An ex-murderer.

But was she really? Had she really left her dark Academy days behind?

Past or present?

Did Sabine grow out of the characteristics that used to be evident in her life... or were they still there?

Sabine clenched her jaw under her welding mask. She was relieved she had it on. The mask not only covered and protected her face, but covered her emotions and protected her feelings from getting stepped on. It really was a mask in the physical and metaphorical sense.

 _What else?_

 _Who am I?_

 _Which part of me is the real me?_

"What else am I?" Sabine repeated Dev's question hollowly. "I'm no one, kid. No one important. Not anymore."

 _Just alone,_ Sabine added mentally. _Alone with only my thoughts and my regrets._ The teen went back to welding the metal together.

"Well then," Dev said, scooting closer. "You're in good company 'cause you can't be more unimportant than me! I'm a nobody."

Sabine rolled her eyes under the welding mask. "Great, kid. Makes me feel so much better."

"It should," Dev replied. "Guess me in you have more in common then you think."

Sabine abruptly slammed the car hood down. "You're nothing like me," she said in a low voice.

She watched as Dev reared back, offended. "What?" he said angrily. "You think you're too good for me? Too high and mighty?"

The teen gave an aggravated sigh. "No, kid-"

"Or maybe because I'm homeless? An orphan? A Loth-rat?"

Sabine's hands clenched into fists. "No! I-"

"I've got no one, Sabine! I'm a total nobody. Sorry I can't have a nice, warm, bed to sleep in or a roomy home to live in, or parents who love me-"

"I don't have any of those things!" Sabine yelled, breathing heavily.

The kid froze.

She rubbed her face under her mask in aggravation. "That's not what I meant, Dev. You're nothing like me. And trust me, you don't want to be."

The teen turned away from Dev and put her blowtorch up.

"Who are you?" the kid suddenly asked, raising his voice. "Ketsu warned me. She said you were dangerous. That you've done terrible things."

Sabine clenched her hands into fists and leaned heavily on the desk in front of her. _Ketsu..._ Sabine thought bitterly. _She told Dev about me. About what I've done..._

"How long did you listen?" Sabine asked solemnly, her back to Dev and the welding mask still firmly on her face.

"Long enough," the kid shot back. "I'm just wondering if it's all true..."

Sabine narrowed her eyes and froze as she heard his next words.

"...And whether or not I should trust you."

Sabine whirled around. Oh, how she wanted to smack that smug little smirk off the kid's face! "You don't know anything about me, kid," she spat, coming up to Dev. "Don't act like you do."

"I know you did awful things," the kid said, not backing down. "And I know you did stuff people would only have nightmares about. So why should I trust you, huh? I'm starting to think you're not who you say you are."

"Oh, that's just perfect coming from you!" Sabine shot back, her rage building. "You think I'm supposed to buy your sad little story, _Dev Morgan?_ "

She got right in his face and downright spat the last two words.

"Don't turn this around on _me,_ " the kid shouted, "you're the one hiding something!"

"I'm not-"

"For crying out loud, you're wearing a mask, Sabine!"

She froze as Dev walked right up to her, their faces only inches apart yet the welding mask's metal separated them.

"If you think," Dev said, his voice dangerously low. "That hiding from your problems and protecting what you don't want me to see is going to ease your conscience... then the only person you're fooling is yourself."

Oh, boy.

The tension was so think, Sabine half-thought she could cut it with a knife. They were both silent for several long moments, and she was totally speechless.

 _Hiding from my problems?_ Sabine reflected, frowning under the welding mask. _Protecting what I don't want Dev to see?_

 _...And what don't I want him to see?_

The answer came immediately and sadly, Sabine knew it was true.

She didn't want him to see herself.

If Dev knew who Sabine was and what she had done, he would surely leave her. Just like everyone else had. _So?_ Sabine thought to herself. _Why do I care if he leaves? He's just some punk kid trying to flirt with me._

She hesitated. That _was_ what Dev seemed like... but the way he talked and the way he acted hinted at something else, something behind the facade of him flirting with her. Like his awkward attempts to make a move on her were actually just cover-ups for what he really thought. Like they were just distractions to relieve Dev from the daily toll of life.

 _He's more than he lets on,_ she reflected. _But still, I don't think "Dev Morgan" really is Dev Morgan._

She slowly took the welding mask off her face and saw the kid clearly. He still hadn't said anything, but was looking at her piercingly, his head tilted.

"You can trust me," Sabine said finally. "Whether or not you believe that is all up to you."

She turned and set the welding mask down on the desk.

She eventually heard Dev sigh. "Sorry, Sabine," the kid said softly. "I... I do trust you. It's just, after what Ketsu said, making you out to sound like a bad person, I-I didn't know what to believe."

"Well," Sabine sighed regretfully, "whatever she said was true. I'm assuming she didn't tell you much?"

Dev shook his head. "Just warned me. Told me you're a dangerous person."

Sabine gave a quiet laugh. "Guess so. But, uh, don't worry Dev," she said playfully. "I won't kill you just yet." She turned and got some tools off her wall. "I'm still waiting for my money."

"And then you'll kill me?" Dev inquired.

"Mmm. Maybe. Still debating. You're not _terrible_ company to have around."

Dev faked an exaggerated shocked look. "Was that a compliment?"

"Hah. Don't read _too_ much into it, kid," Sabine shot down, half smiling.

Dev moved closer to her and leaned up against the wall flirtatiously. "Maybe I will," he shrugged. "So, you doing anything tonight?"

Sabine blew a strand of hair from her face. Wow, this guy was really pouring on the charm he didn't have. " _You_ already asked me that."

He threw up his hands in surrender. "Hey! I was just wondering if you're totally sure in your answer!"

"I _am,_ thanks for asking."

"Well, you're welcome. I know, don't say anything, I'm just considerate like that."

Sabine stared hard at Dev. Was he serious? ...Naw, he couldn't be. The kid practically sweat charisma but now... now, he was just being cocky.

"I hate to break off this smooth talk thing you've got going on," Sabine said finally, "but, it's lunch break. So... peace out."

She started walking off and Dev chased after her. "Hey!" he said. "What if I buy you lunch?"

"Hah. With stolen money? No thanks, kid. And speaking of, you owe me twenty-five dollars for today's fee. Pay up."

Dev stopped and crossed his arms. "Have you even _started_ fixing my dirt bike?"

"You know," she said, dodging the question, "it's only been three days."

"Which is three days longer then I meant to stay," the kid muttered.

Sabine pretended like she hadn't heard his comment and continued, "I need a little more time."

Dev grumbled something and pulled out his wallet and a few bills. "Outrageous," he mumbled and gave her the money.

Oh, how she was going to enjoy the look on his face when he realized it was all a prank and she was swindling him out of his money. She needed only a quarter of the money he was giving her to fix his dirt bike.

"So," Sabine said, "nice doing business with you, but I'm hungry so I'll catch you later."

"Well," Dev interrupted, "I'm not doing anything now, so I could just hang out with you for awhile-"

"You're saying you wanna tag along?" she asked bluntly.

"Hey, whatever floats your boat!"

Dev looked at her expectantly and Sabine pursed her lips.

"Ugh, Come on!" she said finally.

"Yes!" the kid exclaimed and punched the air as he jogged after the teenager and they both walked to lunch.

* * *

A few hours and two hamburgers later, Dev had _somehow_ managed to convince Sabine to going over to her house. Really, though... Sabine had just gotten bored of rebuffing him over and over again and finally gave into his insistence.

And… well… Blast it, she didn't want to admit it, even to herself, but… Dev _was_ pretty good company and she hadn't talked—really talked—to anyone like she had to him in ages.

Plus, Sabine was _sure_ that Dev wasn't who he said he was. ...Maybe he was going under a fake name?

Anyhow, she would find out tonight who the kid really was and why he looked so familiar.

Sabine glanced over at the broad-jawed, black-haired, blue-eyed teen in front of her.

Tonight, the kid would come over to her home, if it could even be called that, and she would find out who he really was.

She would find out Dev's true identity.

 **You excited for the next chap, guys? I am!**

 **On a side note, who's for the Sabine/Ezra romance dealio? Just wondering. As for my personal opinion… I'm kinda in and out. No matter how bad you want it to happen, it's kind of cliche to have the two youngest members get together early on as teens. Not the best storytelling. Everyone could see it coming for miles.**

 **But I DO want them to end up together eventually, maybe realizing that they don't just "like" each other, but after years and years of depending on the other they realize they need one another? Like they're two halves of the same thing and inseparable? Just my guesses.**

 **But what about you guys? If you want to, tell me what/how/if you ship Sabezra in comments:)**

 **Bye everyone!**

 **Specter7 out.**


End file.
